


Dancing in the Moonlight

by Blue_Night



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Recovery, Self-Doubt, Theatre
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2018-09-13 22:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9145567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night
Summary: Thomas Müller runs a small theater together with his aunt Mathilda, and when their first male dancer gets injured, they need to find someone who can replace him in the new ballet they want to perform in the new season. Who would be better for the role of the Romeo in the changed version of Romeo and Juliet where Romeo loves a Julian instead of a Juliet than the former famous dancer Robert Lewandowski?Thomas once watched young Robert dancing the Bolero at the start of his promising career when he was seventeen, and he fell in love with him instantly, but never met him personally before Robert became injured and disappeared from the stage.Will the young theater manager be able to convince Robert to give their small theater and their uncommon ballet about two tragic male lovers a chance?





	1. The Bolero

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Love Somebody New](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9083104) by [Janie94](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janie94/pseuds/Janie94). 



> My dear readers, this story popped up in my mind after reading Janie94's incredible dance scenes starring Robert Lewandowski so perfectly, and this is only a cautious try to make my way back into this fandom, nothing more, nothing less. 
> 
> I won't update any of my other works here in this fandom, only try this one and post two or three chapters of it to see if anyone is truly interested in it, like in that truly interested that you will show me that with your feedback. If it will turn out to be like it has been with most of my other works lately, that it will get a lot of hits but hardly any kudos and comments, I will delete it again and most likely not come back to this fandom.
> 
> I can't spend my little and precious free time with writing and posting for you if you consider me and my works not worthy enough to give me something back. I need your visible support and feedback for doing that, because if your English is good enough to follow my stories, and if you have enough time to read chapters with 2000 and more words, than your English should be good enough for a short 'I liked it!' as much as you should have enough time to press the kudos button and write a comment with three short words. That takes hardly more than half a minute.
> 
> I have more than 50 user subscriptions, and even though they are anonymous and don't show which fandom they're coming from, but most of them must come from users reading stories in this fandom. If there are really so many of you wanting to be informed about each and every work I post, why do you care about my request to support me actively so little? Has my writing really become that bad that you close the work right after having read a few sentences again? Because if you read it to the end and liked it, why not telling me to encourage me writing more of it? Half of the chapters of most of my longer WIPs haven't gotten any kudos and only comments from a few truly faithful readers, and this is more frustrating and discouraging than even hurtful feedback is. 
> 
> Those of you who are writing and posting here yourselves can probably imagine how it feels to get 100 and sometimes even more than 300 hits for a chapter and either no kudos at all or only one or two (which happened with chapter 2 of Black Moon, 300 hits, but no one took the time to press the kudos button), and if this will happen with this work, as well, then I am not longer welcome and appreciated here in the football fandom.  
> You don't have to pay for reading our works posted here, a short comment and kudos really shouldn't be too much asked for.
> 
> Some of you might be offended now and upset about my clear words, but that's how I feel and I think that I owe you this honesty instead of just disappearing like so many other great writers having found themselves in the same position as me have done.
> 
> I hope that all of you had a great start into 2017 and that you will enjoy this first chapter of my first non-A/B/O-Müllendowski-story, if you did enjoy it, then please tell me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is seventeen when he sees Robert dancing for the first time in his life, to the very special music of Ravel's Bolero. Will he get a second chance to really get to know him eight years later when both are grown up and fate hasn't been really friendly to Robert?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have once watched the Bolero danced by the company of my hometown's national theater myself, and I still remember this evening even though it has been a rather long time ago. The Bolero is surely one of the masterpieces of musical art you will never forget once you have truly listened to it.

List of characters:

 

_The 'crew' of the theater 'Old Firehouse':_

 

Thomas Müller: the young and aspiring theater manager

Mathilda Müller: the owner of the _'Old Firehouse'_ and Thomas' aunt

Matthias Ginter: the scene designer and handyman

Mario Götze: the costume designer

Thomas Tuchel: the choreographer

Manuel Neuer: the young musician and composer of the ballet _'Dancing in the Moonlight'_

Philipp Lahm: the writer of the ballet, responsible for the scenes and the plot

Patrick Herrmann: the makeup artist

Benedikt Höwedes: the director of the orchestra

 

Jenny Weber: Robert's former flatmate and best friend

Richard Löwe: a wealthy businessman, big music enthusiast and secret admirer of Mathilda Müller

 

_The ballet dancers and their roles in the ballet:_

 

Robert Lewandowski: first dancer, dancing the _Romeo Montego,_ a famous popstar from the eastside of the town who has gotten an important record deal with the _'King Company'_

Erik Durm: dancing the _Julian King,_ Romeo's secret lover

Marco Reus: dancing the _Andrew King,_ Julian's older brothe _r_

Sven Bender: dancing the _Walter King,_ Julian's and Andrew's father and owner of the 'King Company'

Helena Thanstein: dancing the _Elvira King,_ Walter's wife

Nuri Sahin: dancing the _Bill Santini,_ Romeo's manager

Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang: dancing the _Carlo,_ Romeo's bandmate

Joshua Kimmich: dancing the _Josh,_ Romeo's bandmate

Julian Weigl: dancing the _Steven,_ Romeo's bandmate

Mats Hummels: former first dancer, now injured

other ballet dancers dancing the fans and party guests

 

 

 

_Prologue:_

 

_The music crescendoed to the final part, the dancers on the stage whirling around to the magical tunes and sounds the orchestra evoked with their instruments._

_Thomas Müller couldn't avert his eyes from one of them, clearly the youngest one of the company, but also the most beautiful and shining one of all of them. It wasn't typical that a male dancer was the one bringing the audience under his spell like that, this was normally reserved for the female ballet dancers, those who appeared as some kind of mystic beings, fay-like when they lifted themselves to the top of their toes in their special toe shoes their beauty seemingly not coming from this world._

_But tonight, Thomas was sure that none of the hundreds of theatergoers was paying close attention to the first female dancer, not with her beautiful male partner dancing by her side, outshining everyone._

_He seemed to glow from the inside like a flame in the darkest hour of the night, his aristocratic, handsome features suffused with the passion for his profession and the music he literally emanated, music burning with the same passion the beautiful young dancer burned with._

_Thomas couldn't detect the eye-color of the unknown dancer, and he cursed inwardly that he hadn't gotten a seat closer to the stage to regard this dancer more closely and take in all of him, every little detail, his expression, every tiny motion. His hair was dark, almost black, and slightly curly, and his long, perfect legs hardly touched the floor of the stage as he danced upon it like a feather dancing in the soft summer breeze, his lithe body swaying and whirling as if it was weightless._

_The female dancers wore long, floating dresses while the male dancers were dressed with tightly fitting, shimmering jump suits in different colors that matched with the colors of the dresses._

_Thomas could detect different shades of yellow, orange and red, but the two first dancers of the company were dressed in shimmering and sparkling gold like an ancient God and his Goddess. The teenager couldn't take his eyes off the vision almost flying over the stage from one side to the other, totally drawn in by the fluent and elegant motions of the God-like dancer; and his heart was beating fast in his chest, aching with all the sensations coursing through him._

_Thomas actually hadn't wanted to come here this evening, he had wanted to spend the first Saturday he didn't need to learn for school with some of his friends, a party with rock music much more appealing to a teenager than visiting a ballet with his aunt was._

_But Aunt Mathilda had promised him to pay for his driver license and a used car next year if he went to the theater with her one evening every month, and this was a rather small price for his dream of getting his own car and his license, and he had agreed to her demand without thinking._

_Now, he was glad that he sat here in the rather dark theater instead of crouching in some overcrowded party room, strange emotions making it hard for him to breathe as he followed every movement of the dark-haired dancer with his eyes, regretting that the evening would come to an end far too soon for his liking._

_The music of the timelessly passionate Bolero culminated furiously, and the young dancer whirled over the stage with his female partner one last time, sinking to the ground when the last tune faded as elegantly and majestically as the black swan Thomas had seen swimming in the Isar a couple of days ago._

_There was a moment of complete, rapt silence before the theatergoers started to clap their hands frantically, rising to their feet to honor the young dancer with standing ovations for his performance._  
_Thomas almost jumped to his feet while his aunt followed him a little bit slower, shooting him an amused sidelong glance the teenager with the dark-blond hair chose to rather ignore._

_The company poised in their posture for a few more seconds before they formed a long line and went to the edge of the stage with the two first dancers in front of them._

_They bowed several times for their audience, and Thomas craned his neck and balanced on his toes to catch a good look at the dark-haired ballet dancer who had gotten him under his spell so thoroughly._

_The young man's face was flushed from the exertion of the dance, but he looked utterly happy, a small smile playing around his sensitive mouth._

_“So, this is Mario Gomez, the first dancer of the company?” he asked Aunt Mathilda without averting his eyes from the object of his admiration. He hadn't bothered to look into the playbill before the ballet had started, but the name somehow didn't seem to be the right one for this outstanding artist. The young dancer bowed together with his prima ballerina and when he looked up again, he suddenly turned his head a little bit in Thomas' direction._

_Maybe, he was sensing that Thomas was watching him that intently, maybe, it was only a coincidence, but their eyes met for two or three seconds and Thomas was finally able to detect the other one's eye color, a deep and rich blue, the most beautiful eyes Thomas had ever looked into._

_Thomas stared at the young man who could only be two or three years older than he himself was, at the beginning of his career, and he almost overheard his aunt's words._

_“No, this is not Mario Gomez. I heard from a friend that Gomez sprained his ankle during the rehearsal, and they had to replace him with another dancer.”_

_Thomas' hands burned from all the clapping, but he didn't stop because he feared that 'his' dancer would leave the stage if he stopped clapping his hands too soon._

_“This is the young, aspiring dancer who came from a Polish theater earlier this season. His name is Robert Lewandowski, and I must admit that I have hardly ever seen any other young dancer as talented as he actually is.”_

_“Robert Lewandowski,” Thomas murmured, tasting the name on his tongue. “Robert Lewandowski,” he repeated, and the sweet ache in his chest right where his heart was still beating that fast as if he had been the one dancing the Bolero came unexpected and without warning._

_Thomas Müller was seventeen and standing in a theater next to his favorite aunt when he realized that he had fallen in love for the fist time in his life._

_“Robert Lewandowski,” he murmured for a third time, blinking against the sudden dizziness the storm of his emotions made him feel, and he kept clapping his hands desperately until the last dancer had left the stage and Robert Lewandowski disappeared behind the closing curtain._

 

***

 

_Eight years later:_

 

“Mats' injury is severe, his left knee is overused, I don't think that he will be able to dance this season.”

Thomas rubbed his tired eyes and suppressed a sigh, leaning back in his office chair to look at his aunt. “Are you sure, Aunt Mathilda? This ballet is our chance to finally make a real name and win some fame. You know how hesitant I was at the beginning to stage a ballet about two young men tragically falling in love with each other, but Manuel's and Fips' changed version of Romeo and Juliet is truly magnificent. We are a small theater needing more visitors, and I do believe that 'Dancing in the Moonlight' will be a great success. But we will need Mats for that! We can't do it without him.”

Thomas had studied theater arts and business management after his graduation, his wish to work in his beloved aunt's theater formed after one magical night eight years ago, when he had been seventeen and watched the Bolero performed by the company of Munich's national theater. It hadn't been the eternal composition itself that had aroused his wish, but the young dancer who had replaced the former principal male dancer of the national ballet company, the beautiful and sparkling young Pole Thomas had even fallen in love with while he had watched him dance.

Robert Lewandowski.

Thomas still couldn't think of him or listen to the Bolero without feeling the same ache in his chest he had felt back then when he had been seventeen and crazy in love for the first time.  
Thomas heart had broken when his adored dancer had left Munich to dance in Dortmund instead for several years after the great season he had had with only nineteen, when other dancers normally got their first contract as a background dancer.  
Thomas still wasn't really over it, even though he tried to deny the truth even to himself. The former choreograph Pepe Gardiolo hadn't given him the chance he had deserved but chosen Mario Gomez over him in the next season again and Robert, not born to be the second dancer, had left Munich to seek his luck and fame somewhere else.

Thomas had tried to keep track of him but lost him out of sight three years ago when Robert had become injured himself and had had to take a break from dancing. The dark-haired Pole had never dance on any stage in Germany Thomas knew ever since then, disappeared like the black swan in the Isar Thomas had fed for two years.

Mathilda's next words broke in on his wistful memories and had him wide awake within one second.

“I think I know a solution for our problem. Robert Lewandowski is searching for a new contract. He hasn't been on stage for a rather long time, but a dancer like him doesn't forget how to dance, it is in his blood. I know that we are probably a too unimportant and small theater for his liking, but knowing you, my dear nephew, I am positive that you will be able to convince him to give us a chance.”

Thomas stared at his aunt with a dropped jaw. “R-Robbert L-lewandowsski?” he stammered, and his aunt smiled knowingly at him. “Yes, Robert Lewandowski,” she confirmed with a nod of her head. “I still remember you having been all over the moon because of him, and I can't blame you for that. He is someone special, and his way of dancing is simply magical.”

Mathilda folded her arms across her chest, mirroring Thomas' posture as she leaned back in her own chair and watched her nephew with pursed lips. She was a small and slim person with ageless, delicate features and chin-long, brown hair, but Thomas had never met anybody else who was capable of putting people in their places with just one look of their eyes like Aunt Mathilda was able to do. Not even his father, her older brother, had ever dared to contradict her, and his father was one of the toughest man Thomas knew. Both, father and son, held greatest respect for her, and Thomas loved her with all his heart.

“Do you really think that Robert Lewandowski would agree to dance the Romeo? We can't offer him as much money as he would get from a theater much bigger than ours.” Thomas chewed on his lip, the prospect of working with the dancer he had adored like other teenagers adored famous pop-stars scaring him as much as it excited him.

“We won't know until we've asked him, will we?” Aunt Mathilda cocked her head to the side and comfortably crossed her legs. She never wore jeans or trousers, Thomas couldn't remember having seen her wearing anything else than skirts and dresses. Today, it was a knee-long skirt with a petticoat underneath in black and blue, completed by a tight, black shirt with long sleeves and a short jacket in turquoise.

“Robert hasn't danced on a big stage for three years, he can't be that picky when it comes to another contract. Our theater might not be as big as the national theater, but we already have a good reputation, and the number of our visitors has increased since you've become my second hand. You are young and know what young people like to see, and this ballet will be no exception from the rule. Robert is still living in Dortmund and you have to meet him there, but I am sure it will be worth it. If anyone can coax him to come back to Munich, then it will be you. You have a way of convincing people to do what you want them to do that never fails to amaze me,” his aunt now continued innocently, and Thomas snorted and rolled his eyes but smiled.

“I've learned from the best, Aunt Mathilda,” he stated wryly. “We would have to start soon with the rehearsals, this will be difficult because he needs a place to stay and so on.”

His aunt beamed at him. “This won't be a problem, my dear nephew, the small flat in the basement of your parent's house is free, isn't it? I am sure that my brother will agree to an appropriate rent and we will find enough volunteers helping him with the move.”

Thomas wasn't sure whether he should be annoyed or rather amused. “You have thought this through, my dear aunt, haven't you? You must have planned this for a rather long time!” he accused her, but Mathilda only shrugged her shoulders.

“Do you want me to give you his address or not, Thomas? Robert is one of the best dancers in Germany, if not the best, and only his damn injury threw him back for the last three years. He will be as good as he has been before that horrible day within the blink of an eye if he can only be convinced to give himself a chance and come back on the stage where he so clearly belongs. As you said, we need someone for the Romeo, and Robert might be even better for this role than Mats! I called him while I waited for the doctor finishing Mats's examination, and he agreed to meet you the day after tomorrow!”

Thomas knew when he had to admit his defeat. “I see. Our meeting is already fixed, then. So give me the address and I will drive to Dortmund and see if my skills in manipulating other people are truly as good as you think that they are. But don't be disappointed if I will come back alone.”

“I won't, I promise you,” Aunt Mathilda assured him, “but something tells me that Robert Lewandowski will actually dance on our small stage this season.”

Thomas wasn't as sure about that as his aunt obviously was, but he took the piece of paper where she had scribbled Robert's address nonetheless.

“Robert Lewandowski,” he murmured to himself as he stared at the address, “so we will finally meet in person. I am curious whether or not your eyes will be as blue as I remember them to be.”


	2. Meeting Robert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has driven to Dortmund to meet Robert in a small coffee-shop and offer him the role of Romeo in the ballet 'Dancing in the Moonlight'. Will Thomas be able to convince Robert to come back to Munich with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, thank you so much for your wonderful feedback to the first chapter. Please keep it up, because this story won't be finished without your active and visible support. I simply can't keep on writing and posting without getting anything in return. I posted so many chapters of my WIPs over the last year without getting even one single kudo for them, watching other authors getting ten kudos and more together with several comments for each new chapter, while the comments under mine came from two or three truly faithful readers only. It even happened with a lot of chapters of my most successful stories like 'Never Gonna Give You Up' and 'Love Comes Quickly And Unexpected'. There is only one single WIP where something like this didn't happen, where I have gotten kudos and comments for each chapter: it is 'The Slave'. (Which has always astonished me).  
> Another reader has been told recently that they should sedulously keep on writing and posting for the few readers commenting, and for some writers that might be enough, but not for the majority. Would Steven King or any other famous (and now rich) writer really keep on writing for only hundred people buying their books? Would you really expect them to do that? 
> 
> Footballers are getting a lot of money for playing football. Could they still give their very best and shoot goals, win games and titles for us if the thousands of fans sitting in the stadium would stay seated and completely silent during each and every game instead of cheering them up, jumping to their feet and shouting about every goal? Would a singer or a band like to sing for a totally quiet audience? Would dancers and actors on a theater stage still be able to pull us into another world for one or two hours if us theatergoers wouldn't applaude frantically before the curtain closes?
> 
> Your kudos, comments and bookmarks are our applause, our cheering up and our reward, they are your shouts and clapping hands, please always think of that and don't guess that us writers will somehow know that you like our stories without you telling us.
> 
> I know that I am repeating my words like a mantra, and I think myself that it is a shame that so many writers had to do that lately. I am not the only one who has been frustrated and hurt about the silence and lack of support, and I am tired of asking and asking - literally having to beg - for feedback again and again. I won't do it again, though, don't worry, my rambling about this topic will be over after these notes.  
> But, if the chapters of this story I will post over the next days and couple of weeks will turn out like so many others of my other WIPs, going without kudos and with comments only from my two or three most faithful readers, than I will leave this fandom for good without any further note, taking my stories with me. 
> 
> The plot of 'Dancing in the Moonlight' is worked out and written, I have this story clear in my mind, it's up to you whether or not it will be finished, and the same goes for my other unfinished works here. If you want them to be written, posted and finished, then support them.
> 
> I know that I speak for most of the writers posting here and feeling the same way, and telling us that we should do it just for ourselves or one or two active supporters isn't helpful at all, quite the opposite. 
> 
> My most profound thanks to all of you who have always supported me, always left a comment and kudos and never grow tired of telling me that you appreciate my writing, without you, I would already have left. <33
> 
> Dear Janie94, if you read this chapter before I can comment under your newest work, please believe me that only my incredibly tight time schedule is responsible for the delay. The sequel to 'Let the Right One In' is for once nothing I can just read 'in between', and I have hardly had time to breathe over the past days. Finally reading the first chapter and bathing you in my excited rambling will be my reward for posting this chapter after having written it in small bits over the past days in between real life. :-)

Thomas had driven to Dortmund the day after their talk, as always taking the used Toyota Aunt Mathilda had bought him when he had passed the tests for his driving license instead of the second, much younger car his father had offered to share with him. Thomas' thoughts had wandered back to that fateful evening eight years ago again and again while he had been stuck in several traffic jams on his way, the memory of how Robert had looked like back then still as clear in his mind as if it had been only yesterday.

His car might be rather old by now, but it was reliable and had never let him down so far, and the young theater manager rather used the money he earned for the necessary repairs of the stage, the costumes and the furniture of their theater instead of saving it for a brand-new car. He mostly used the subway and the bus in Munich anyway, and his old Corolla with the proud name Heracles was his faithful companion for seven years by now.

His aunt had booked a hotel room for him near the place where Robert Lewandowski still lived in Dortmund, and Thomas had tossed and turned in his hotel bed almost half of the night, desperately thinking about a way to convince the young Pole to accept their offer and dance the Romeo on their small stage.

Aunt Mathilda had inherited the old theater with the name _'Old Firehouse'_ from the former owner Karl Mannheimer who had died about ten years ago without any related heir. Mathilda and Thomas' father had spent a lot of time in the theater when they had been children, listening to Karl's stories about the actors and dancers who had filled his stage with life and fame a long time ago with rapt devotion, and Mathilda had nursed the old man like a loving when he had become sick.

Karl's last wish had been that she would bring his beloved theater back to profit and fame, and she had promised him to do so and started to accomplish her mission with grim determination and surprisingly great skills.

Thomas had been fifteen when that had happened, not really interested in old theaters, but one magical evening eight years ago had changed that, and his passion to re-establish the _'Old Firehouse'_ as one of Munich's best theaters and give it back its former good name and reputation was as big as Aunt Mathilda's was by now.

Therefore, coaxing Robert Lewandowski to sign the contract and dance for them was based not only on Thomas' former crush on the beautiful dancer, but also on the assumption that a dancer who had once managed to bring people under his spell with his dancing as easily as Robert had done it would be a crowd-puller and increase the number of visitors remarkably. It was also the Pole's biggest chance of a real comeback at the moment, because he had been away from the stage for almost all of the best years of his short life as a professional dancer.

Thomas had gotten up early this morning and called Robert after taking a quick shower and gobbling down a hasty breakfast with sweaty hands, and the Pole had agreed to meet him around ten in a coffee-shop near his flat. Thomas would have liked to see the place where the dancer lived, because his flat would have given him an impression about how Robert had been doing over the past three years without a contract, but he hadn't dared to make such a request, because the Pole's voice had left no doubt about him not agreeing to it.

Thomas nervously rubbed his hands on his dark-blue jeans as he now approached the coffee-shop, the friendly manager of his hotel had described the way, and Thomas had left the hotel half an hour ago to not be too late. He had found the shop without any problems but decided to take a short walk to calm himself down instead of waiting in the shop for Robert. He didn't want to appear as too greedy and desperate by being over-punctual, and he was long enough in the theater branch to not know how actors and dancers worked.

Artists had often the habit of not being punctual, and Thomas didn't really think that the dark-haired Adonis he had fallen in love with when he had been seventeen and watched him dance would be an exception from this rule and not let him wait for at least half an hour.

But when he opened the door, he could see the man of his youthful dreams and desires sitting at a small table before the large window front, drawing thoughtful circles with his spoon in his cup while he stared blindly and almost wistfully out of the window, his eyes probably not seeing the street before the coffee-shop, but something from his memory that was long gone.

Thomas stopped in the doorway for a short moment, taking in the sight of the other man. Dancers weren't as famous or well-recognized as actors or sportsmen like footballers for example were, and Robert had been away from the stage for three years, so he could enjoy his coffee in a public coffee-shop without being recognized, disturbed or asked for autographs.

The young Pole wore tight black jeans and a simple but neat and carefully ironed white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves, and he hadn't bothered to close the last two buttons. Thomas could catch a glimpse of the soft, tanned skin of his delicate collarbone under the white cotton and the play of the muscles of his well-shaped forearms and elegant hands as he shifted his weight in his seat, and the slight and more than inappropriate reaction of his body made him swallow. Somehow, he had thought that he had gotten over his crush and would have himself under control much better, but he had been wrong with that as he now realized. The Polish dancer still had him under his spell, not seeing him for so long hadn't changed that, at all.

Hopefully, Robert wouldn't pay too close attention to the lower regions of his body, and Thomas was glad that his own bluejeans weren't as tightly fitting as Robert's were. The aspiring theater manager forced his feet into action again, hesitantly stepping forward just when Robert slowly turned his head to look him straight in the eyes all of a sudden.

 

***

 

Robert's eyes were indeed as blue as Thomas remembered them to be, and they observed him attentively, fixed on Thomas' face instead of measuring and appraising him like the young manager had expected it.

Robert was twenty-seven now, still young enough for a second career, but his face had lost its innocent youth, the passion and cheerfulness it had once shown. Instead, the Pole's features were hard and guarded now, his expression something between blank and angry after the brief moment when he had thought himself unwatched and alone and therefore looked melancholy and almost relaxed, his face much less controlled and grim.

Eight years ago, Robert had radiated hope, excitement and happiness, but now all that was coming off of him in waves were boredom, annoyance and resignation. Thomas realized that the older man wasn't really interested in what he had to offer him, maybe this constant feeling of boredom had made him agree to this meeting, a welcome distraction from his dull daily routine of whatever he was doing since he had left the stage, and which he would go back to with a shrug of his shoulders when their meeting was over and Thomas would return to Munich with empty hands.

Thomas unconsciously lifted his chin up ever so slightly and closed the remaining distance to Robert's table.

“Mr. Lewandowski? I am Thomas Müller, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said, forcing a strained smile upon his face to hide his disappointment and reaching out with his hand. So many kilometers of driving just for nothing, why the heck had Robert accepted this meeting if he already knew that he wouldn't sign the contract?

The dark-haired dancer hesitated for the split of a second before he slowly rose to his feet. Others wouldn't have noticed his reluctance to stand up, but Thomas had dealt with enough actors, dancers and other artists over the last two years to not notice such small things, and it angered him pretty much that Robert had thought about treating him impolitely by staying seated although it had been only for a very short moment.

But maybe arrogance alone wasn't the only thing that made Robert behave the way he did, maybe he was simply still mistrustfully towards all theater managers and coreographers after his experience with Pepe Gardiolo. Thomas couldn't really blame him, and he was determined to prove to the young dancer that not all managers and coregraphers were like the one who had chosen his lover over the best dancer.

If Robert would give him the chance to prove himself to him, that is.

“Hello Mr. Müller, the pleasure is all mine.” This was a blatant and obvious lie, and a small snort fled Thomas' lips while he waited for the older one to take the offered hand. Robert regarded it as if it was a sizzling snake, but when Thomas' sound of anger made its way to his ears, he took it, and his handshake was warm and firm.

“I see that you choose the truth over pleasantries.” Robert's voice was more amused than mocking, and the soft and warm timbre let a shiver run down Thomas' spine. The dark-haired Pole had still an accent, but only a slight one, and it sounded as charming as Thomas had always imagined it. If only there hadn't been the annoyed undertone...

“The truth is always preferable, isn't it, Mr. Lewandowski?” Thomas resisted the urge to rub his hand where Robert's fingers had touched it and sat down opposite the young dancer. The waitress had only waited for them to take their seats, because she appeared at their table the second Thomas' backside met the padding of the chair, fluttering her eyelashes at Robert.

The sharp and unexpected sting of jealousy cutting right through Thomas pulled a pained gasp from him, and the deep and somewhat unnerving blue eyes focused on him again. “Is everything alright with you, Mr. Müller?”

“Uhm, yes, thank you, only a minor headache from the long drive yesterday. A cup of coffee, please,” Thomas replied, addressing the blond waitress with his wish. The young woman didn't even look at him, only nodded curtly before gifting Robert with her sweetest smile. “Anything else for you, Lewy?” she purred, and Thomas suppressed another gasp that would reveal his true feelings only with effort.

Robert smiled back at her, a true smile reaching his eyes that softened their expression. “No, thank you, Jenny-sweetheart, I'm fine.”

Thomas felt the overwhelming urge to throw up and lose his breakfast all over the Jenny-sweetheart's shoes, but he didn't give in to it because after all, he was a grown up man and not a seventeen years old teenager crazy in love for the first time any longer. Even though he still felt like one again all of a sudden. He clenched his fists in his lap, hoping that his face was as unreadable as Robert's as the Pole looked back at him when the blond waitress was gone.

“Traffic jam?” the dancer asked him after long seconds of awkward silence, his tone not clarifying whether or not he felt annoyed about Thomas' reminder of his straining drive and the effort and money he had put into meeting him in Dortmund. Bigger theaters expected interested actors or dancers to come to them and show their skills during a rehearsal together with other hopeful interested parties.

“Two bigger and four minor ones,” Thomas replied, rolling his shoulders to ease the unbearable tension and the headache creeping upwards from the nape of his neck.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Robert stated, sounding not the least sorry.

Thomas finally had enough of this. He waited until the waitress had put his coffee on the table before his seat that forcefully that some of it spilled onto the saucer and almost onto his light blue and rather expensive dress shirt before he narrowed his eyes at the man he had once loved and adored with all the passion and depth seventeen years old teenagers were capable of.

“Why did you agree to meet me, make me drive the entire long way to Dortmund if you knew that you weren't interested in coming to Munich at all anyway, Mr. Lewandowski?” he snapped, his exhaustion and disappointment erupting from him like lava would erupt from a volcano after having been under heavy pressure for far too long.

Robert smiled, but it was more a grimace than a true smile and not comparable to the smile he had favored the young waitress with. “Your aunt is very – convincing – so to speak. She must be remarkable,” he drawled, and Thomas sighed, his shoulder slumping when his tiredness drained the last shreds of his anger. “Yes, she is. Aunt Mathilda is small and slim, but she is the scariest person I've ever met.”

This pulled a chuckle from the dark-haired Pole. “I can imagine.” He pursed his lips and eyed Thomas with a mixture of appraisal and curiosity. “Why did you agree to come here instead of insisting of me coming to Munich to dance on your stage and prove to you that I am truly the one you have been searching for?” Robert then countered, and Thomas felt redness coloring his cheeks.

“I've seen you dancing the Bolero eight years ago,” he mumbled, raising his cup to his mouth to hide his embarrassment and discomfort.

Robert's face gave nothing away. “I see,” he only said after some time, cocking his head to the side. “Eight years are a rather long time. What makes you believe that I am still the dancer you have once seen?”

“Aunt Mathilda believes it, and this was enough for me to come here and talk to you. Are you interested in learning more about the ballet we want to perform or not?” Thomas' fingers clenched around his spoon until his knuckles turned white. He normally drank his coffee black and didn't need a spoon, but he needed something to hold on to to not strangle the man sitting at the other side of the table. His emotions changed between anger, desire, fascination, frustration and confusion that quickly that his head was spinning, and only the fact that they were sitting in a public coffee-shop kept him from shouting.

“I've never heard of the two creators Manuel Neuer and Philipp Lahm before, it can't be that good then.” Robert shrugged, looking bored.

Thomas drew in a shaky breath, glaring at the former famous dancer. “It is their first ballet, and it is awesome! They managed to turn the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet into something completely new, and I am convinced that it will be a great success and performed on much bigger stages within the next few years! _'Dancing in the Moonlight'_ only needs the right dancers to make it special. We have already found the perfect Julian, Erik Durm is an aspiring and very talented dancer, and we have also found the right dancers for the other roles. Marco Reus will dance the part of Julian's older brother Andrew. You might know him, he was one of the older students of the ballet school of Munich's national ballet.”

Robert just stared at Thomas. “Yes, I know him.”

The young theater manager narrowed his eyes mistrustfully, because there had been a strange undertone in the Pole's voice, but he didn't try to ask further questions, knowing that Robert Lewandowski wouldn't answer them. “Manu and Phillip have created something truly magnificent, something special and unique, and even though our theater called _'Old Firehouse'_ might be rather small, but it has a good name, and this ballet could be your chance for a great comeback!” Thomas exclaimed, desperately searching for the right words to make Robert change his mind.

The dark-haired dancer had listened to him quietly, and his expression had changed from hard and annoyed to melancholy and regretful. “I believe you that _'Dancing in the Moonlight'_ has the potential to become a great success, Mr. Müller,” he started, and Thomas realized that he had never had a chance to convince Robert. The Pole didn't believe in himself any longer, and as long as he felt this way, there was nothing anyone else could say or do to change his mind. “But I am not your Romeo, Thomas, you have to look for another dancer. Munich belongs to my past, and I am sorry, but I have to decline your offer. It is not because of the money, the contract your aunt mailed me is fair and appropriate, but it simply won't work.”

Thomas had had great hopes when Aunt Mathilda had told him about Robert, he had even been that foolish to hope that Robert could start to feel the same way about him as he had once felt about the handsome dancer, but he now realized how stupid and naive he had been.

“Yes of course, it's not the money!” he snorted scornfully. “Maybe, I'm even willing to believe you that, Mr. Lewandowski. But you're wrong saying that you are not our Romeo, because you are! It is as if the role had been written just for you and for you only! It could have been your comeback – it _would_ have been your comeback, a great comeback to prove all those wrong who thought that you would never dance on a real stage again – you yourself included! But you are not the man I had thought you were when I had first seen you dancing – the first time ever you had danced the Bolero as the principal, looking like a sparkling, ancient God and bringing each and everyone under your spell! You were the one making me love the theater, the one making me study theater arts to help my aunt bringing the _'Old Firehouse'_ back to former glory and fame. You were like a shining flame in the darkness, and it was clear that you were born to be the first dancer of a big theater, to dance the great ballets and excite the entire world with your dancing and your talent!  
I know that life has been unfriendly and difficult for you, that your injury came to the wrong time and threw back, but that's how life is! I had thought that you are a fighter, that would fight your way back to the stage instead of just giving up like that! But you're obviously too cowardly to even try it! Are you really that afraid of starting on a smaller stage and having to deal with disappointment and setbacks that you'll rather not dance anymore at all? Or is it because our ballet is about two tragic male lovers? Are you fearing that it could damage your reputation as a womanizer? Is it that?”

Thomas drew in another breath, and when Robert opened his mouth to say something, Thomas shook his head and fished for his wallet. “Do you know what, Mr. Lewandowski? I don't want to hear your lame excuses, I'm not interested in them! Here, this should cover the costs of my coffee and your drink, I have wasted enough of my precious time here with you. I'm needed in Munich, I have to look for someone much braver than you!”

The young theater manager grabbed his jacket and jumped to his feet, almost running to the exit of the coffee-shop as he left a speechless and dumbfounded Robert behind without even shooting one last glance back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't really believe that it would all go smoothly, did you? A little drama can't hurt... ;-)


	3. A Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Robert have met in a coffee-shop, but their meeting didn't go well, and Thomas left Robert rather upset to drive back to Munich. Will there really be no chance for him to convince Robert that he is the perfect Romeo for their ballet?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I added a list of characters above the prologue of chapter one, so please check the list, you will have a better idea about the protagonists showing up in this story. I didn't add the other relationships, I will add them along the way.
> 
> There are four rather important original characters showing up in this fic, you already know one of them: Aunt Mathilda. 
> 
> The others are Jenny Weber (the blond waitress of the coffee-shop), Helena Thanstein, one of the ballet dancers, and Richard Löwe. Those of you who read my medieval story 'One Year With The King' will find the names familiar, Richard Löwe might be a modern version of my beloved King Richard the Lionheart. If you want to give him a look, you can depend on Jürgen Klopp, I think, or you can check the painting under chapter 28 of 'OYWTK' for that. Thanstein is the name I chose for Erik in his love story with King Richard, and I thought Helena Thanstein to be a good name for a ballet dancer.
> 
> I didn't find it very realistic to write such a story - even more a ballet AU - without any female characters, and Aunt Mathilda, Jenny Weber and Helena Thanstein are loosely based on my dear friends mariothellama, Janie94 and GoForGoals. I hope you won't mind me putting you into this story my dears, you will be nice girls, I promise you. ;-D
> 
> Thank you so much for your support my dear readers, you showing me with kudos and comments that you like my stories is what keeps me going, and your feedback is cherished and loved. :-*
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter, I hope you will like it as much as the first two ones!

“No!! Not a damn traffic jam again! What have I done to deserve this?! I just want to get out of here!” Thomas hit the steering wheel with all the frustration he felt, his eyes stinging with the tears of disappointment he refused to cry. After leaving Robert Lewandowski sitting in the coffee-shop, the young theater manager had run back to his hotel, grabbed his overnight bag and payed the bill in one hurry, his only wish to leave Dortmund as fast as only possible.

Of course, luck hadn't been on his side, because two cars had crashed together on the feeder road to the motorway, and the long line of motionless cars had reached the mark of two kilometers rather quickly. Thomas was still trapped in that line a few meters before a big crossroads, the voracious giant the city of Dortmund actually was mocking him for his childish dream of his juvenile crush dancing on his small and unimportant stage one day.

The ringing of his smartphone made him flinch, and Thomas pressed his lips to a thin line, trying to ignore the device lying on the passengers seat beside him. The incoming call could only be his aunt, and Thomas simply couldn't talk to her and admit his failure before he had brought some distance between Dortmund and himself.

His phone had obviously decided to conspire with the inhospitable city and whoever or whatever it was that wanted to torture him further though, because it started to ring again after some seconds of merciful silence, and when it had done so for the third time, Thomas gave in with a heartfelt groan of annoyance, finally pressing the button to accept the call and yell into the microphone of his headset: YES?!”

There was a short moment of shocked silence before a male voice asked in a pretty subdued manner: “Mr. Müller? Here... here is Lewandowski... Robert... ähm, are you already on the motorway?”

Thomas blinked, staring at the screen of his phone still lying on the passengers seat with a rather stupid expression, unable to answer to the question. When he didn't respond, the ballet dancer asked worriedly: “Mr. Müller? Can you hear me?”

“W-w-what?” Thomas stammered. “Yes, yes I can hear you. And no, I'm not on the motorway. I'm stuck in a fucking traffic jam in this damn city and not even close to the approach road!” he had started to yell again without noticing it, and he took several deep breaths to calm his voice.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Mül... no actually, I'm not sorry at all. I – I mean, I don't want you to be stuck in a traffic jam of course, but I am glad that you're still close enough to turn around and give me a second chance – in case that you're willing to give me a second chance, that is...” Robert sounded as confused as Thomas felt, and the dark-blond manager swallowed, not sure whether or not he had heard right.

“Is this some kind of cruel game of you, Mr. Lewandowski? Are you doing this to let me pay for what another asshole has done to you? I'm not sure what I have done to you to deserve such a treatment, but if you really believe that I will turn around and drive back all the long way to this coffee-shop just to listen to your lame excuses why my offer is not acceptable for you, then you're wrong!”

“No, Mr. Müller – Thomas? - this isn't some kind of game, really not. I'm sorry for my behavior earlier. You were right to tell me off like you did, and I tried to run after you, but you had already disappeared when I had finally found back to my common sense. I know that I don't deserve it, but would you please be willing to give me a second chance and listen to me?”

Thomas chewed on his lip, torn between his righteous anger and his desire to give the dark-haired dancer the second chance he had asked for. “Fair enough. But to my conditions. I want to meet you in your flat, not in a public coffee-shop, and I expect you to be honest and open for my offer this time! If you're still not willing to give our ballet a real chance, then you're only wasting my precious time.”

“I am interested, Mr. Müller. I wouldn't have called your aunt to get your number if I wasn't. And meeting you at home is fine with me.”

“You called Aunt Mathilda?” Thomas asked incredulously, and Robert chuckled weakly. It was only a snicker, but it sounded warm and truly amused, not mocking at all. “Yes, I did. She told me quite frankly what a big fool I am, and that I'd better beg you for your forgiveness and a second chance if I didn't want her to take matters in her own hands. It was clear to hear how much she loves you and that she would turn into a hissing and pawing lioness protecting her nephew at all costs if I didn't hurry to call you and make up with you. I promised her to do that. I am sorry for having been such a prick, Mr. Müller, I really am. I think I needed your reaction to finally win my courage back. You have been right, I have been a coward for far too long.”

“Yes, Aunt Mathilda has a very strong sense of protectiveness towards her friends and family.” Thomas chuckled amused. “Alright, I'll try to be there in half an hour. And Thomas is fine with me... Robert.” The young manager ended the call and shook his head to clear his mind, still stunned by the unexpected turnout of this morning, which had started so horribly but promised to become much better – at least if Robert had been honest this time.

The traffic light for the right turning lane became green just when Thomas raised his head to look at it, and he pulled at the steering wheel to make a lane change with squealing tires. The driver of the car behind him honked three times, flipping him the bird when he shot a quick look into the rear-view mirror, but Thomas didn't care. All he cared about was that Robert had asked him for a second chance, and that he himself was actually willing to give it to him.

 

***

 

“What if he doesn't come?” Robert kept up his nervous pacing, his deep blue eyes pleading the young woman sitting on the couch to assure him that everything would be fine again.

Jenny rolled her eyes and sighed. “Sit down, please! You're pacing around like a panther trapped in a cage, and you're making me all dizzy with that! Mr. Müller will come, don't worry, Lewy. He's far too drawn in by you to not do that. I have to admit that I was wrong, he's not like all the other assholes that tried to lure you into their seedy shows. The way he was looking at you was full of real and honest admiration, not the usual greediness other so called 'theater managers' have shown that often when they tried to get their ugly hands on you.”

Robert dropped down on the couch beside her. “I told you before that the _'Old Firehouse'_ is a real theater. A rather old one with a good name even. I've visited it once during my time with the Bavarian national ballet. I never thought that Mr. Müller – Thomas – would try to deceive me and offer me a role in some slippery night club show. The truth is that I am still not sure if I will ever be able to dance a full-length ballet, Jenny-sweetheart. I've been away from the stage for so long, I don't think that anyone will still remember me. I'm not sure whether or not I will have the guts to actually try it and pull this through. What if the audience will hiss and boo me?” The young dancer hid his face in his palms, and the blond girl pulled him into a comforting embrace.

“They will clap their hands and shout with excitement, Lewy, don't worry. They will honor you with standing ovations, I know that for sure! You might not believe in yourself any longer, but I believe in you! You will have a great comeback, I can feel it in my guts! You belong to the stage, Robert! You're such a wonderful dancer, it would be such a shame to waste a talent like yours!”

Robert smiled at her. “Thank you, sweetie. I don't know what I would do without you. Without you and your parents, I wouldn't have made it through the last three years. I will never be able to pay you back for what you all have done for me.”

Jenny winked at him, pressing a kiss onto his cheek. “Oh, I know a way to pay us back, Lewy. Go back to the stage and show the world that you are still the dancer you have once been. Go back to Munich and prove to Gardiolo and all the Münchner that you are still the best dancer this city has ever seen!”

 

***

 

Thomas had made it back to the street where Robert Lewandowski lived in record time, and he pressed the door bell with the names _Weber/Lewandowski_ behind it before he could change his mind again, his face grim as he pondered about the woman or man who had been so lucky to win Robert's heart. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, and he was surprised and pleased at the same time to find the apartment building where the Polish dancer lived neat and in best shape. The walls of the staircase were white and obviously rather freshly painted, and the windows were as clean as the marbled stairs themselves.

Robert awaited him on the threshold with a cautious smile, his hand stretched out for a second handshake. This time, it was Thomas' turn to hesitate but then, he took the offered hand and smiled back.

“I am glad that you came back, Thomas. Thank you for giving me another chance,” Robert said, his voice so much warmer than it had been in the coffee-shop.

“I am glad that you called me and asked me for it.” Thomas only hesitantly let go of the dancer's hand, and Robert beckoned him to come in. The dark-haired Pole helped him out of his jacket and gestured to the door opposite the entrance. “Please come in, Thomas. I'm not really good at making coffee, but I brewed some tea for us. If you don't like tea, I can offer you water or apple juice...” Robert went silent, biting his lip, and Thomas relaxed, grateful that he wasn't the only one feeling that nervous. “Tea is fine with me, thank you, Robert,” he said, stepping over the threshold.

Thomas curiously looked around when he had entered the large room that seemed to be the center of the flat, apparently used as living and dining room at once. The big dark-wooden table where at least ten people could sit was the center of the room, placed in the middle under the star-like lamp, six chairs placed around it. They were made of the same dark wood as the table was, with thick, burgundy red cushions to sit upon comfortably for hours. A bowl with fruits put upon the top invited the people living here or coming as welcomed guests to have a snack, and the vase filled with fresh flowers together with the candle holder in the middle of the table emanated a homey atmosphere.

The wall opposite the large window was reserved for a big and cozy couch with a small coffee table before it, while shelves filled with books and had been placed before the small wall opposite the door. A surprisingly small TV led a miserable and forgotten existence in the corner left between the shelves and the window, standing upon a TV rack that was filled with perhaps ten DVDs. Thomas was pretty sure that Robert and his partner didn't watch TV very often, something he noticed with relief. He wasn't the TV kind of person either, preferring to spend his rare free time with friends, a good book or with the research for new plays or ballets they could perform in his beloved theater.

Thomas liked Robert's flat so far, and he could tell by the sparkling wood of the table and the shining leather of the couch that Robert must be well enough to care about such things, he had seen too many failed artists to not know that falling into a severe depression and destroying one's life slowly but unstoppably was a common result of such failures.

His relaxation lasted until his eyes fell upon the small person sitting on the couch, watching him quietly and with attentive eyes, and he wasn't prepared for the unbearable pain cutting right through his heart when their eyes met. The special one who had conquered Robert Lewandowski's heart was someone he already knew, someone who was allowed to call the Pole 'Lewy' instead of Robert or Mr. Lewandowski. This special someone was no one else but the 'Jenny-sweetheart', the blond waitress from the coffee-shop where Robert had wanted to meet him for the first time.

Jenny-sweetheart Weber, judging by the name set before Lewandowski on the doorbell.

Thomas' heart felt like being shattered into a million sharp and hurting pieces, but he kept up appearances and smiled at the young woman who had won Robert's love.

“Hello Miss Weber. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 

***

 

The blond waitress stood with one single elegant move that made Thomas think that she must be a dancer too, crossing the room to shake his hand. She had to look up at him but didn't seem to mind that, because her smile was full of mischief as she cocked her head to the side. “No, you're not, Mr. Müller, and I can't blame you for that. I'm sorry for my rude behavior in the coffee-shop, it's just that I am so used to protect Lewy from so-called theater managers that I mistook you for one of those greasy douchebags at first. My sincerest apologies for how I treated you, and please let me tell you that I will forever be indebted to you for opening Lewy's eyes with your passionate speech and offering him the chance for a real comeback. I would be pleased if you called me Jenny!”

Thomas felt overwhelmed by the feisty small blonde, and he let himself be guided to the table to slump down on one of the chairs. Robert had watched the scene from the door, but he now crossed the room and sat down opposite him with an apologetic smile. “Of course, Jenny,” Thomas stammered, “I would do the same for the one I love.”

Jenny's heartfelt snicker was like the golden summer sun, it warmed the entire room with its cheerful sound, and Thomas couldn't help but like her instantly, even though his heart was still broken.

“Oh, I do love my dear Lewy, but not the way you think I do,” she stated rather ambiguously, whirling around her axis. “I'll get us the tea. You should enlighten him about our relationship, Lewy, I am sure it would make Thomas feel much better!”

Before either Thomas or Robert could react, she had left the room, leaving only a hint of her fresh perfume behind.

Awkward silence fell over the room, both men eyeing each other sheepishly, until Robert's features relaxed into a smile that made his eyes shine and crinkle with amusement. “Jenny is a force of nature, isn't she?”

Thomas returned the smile. “Just like Aunt Mathilda. They would like each other right from the start, I'm sure about that.”

“Yes, most likely. Jenny and I are not together, Thomas. The owners of this flat are her parents, and they asked me to move in with her daughter when I had nothing left, no job, no money and most of all, no hope. Jenny was there when I woke up from the pain of my injury, she dried my tears and she cooked for me and saw to me after school. Her parents are both successful physicians, her father is the one who did the unbelievable miracle of healing my injury with a special surgery and therapy when all the other physicians had given up on me.  
But they have to travel around the world a lot due to their work, and Jenny hadn't finished school back then, three years ago. Her grandmother had stayed with her when her parents had been away, but she was too old to see to a feisty and clever eighteen years old girl anymore, and her father made a deal with me. I would move in with her and see to her doing her homework and finishing school properly instead of partying all night long. I didn't think that it would work, but Jenny is one of the kindest people you can imagine, and her caring side took over the minute she saw me writhing in pain, her only concern that I would be fed and nursed properly and not fall into depression.  
She made me think about getting another job when I was well enough to work again but refused to even think about trying a comeback. I worked in a supermarket at first, and Jenny always supported me even though she could hardly stand the thought of me never dancing on a big stage again. She was the one making me accept the offer of a ballet school to teach small children, and that's what I have done for two years until last month. It was only a temporary contract, and teaching children is a wonderful thing, but it made me crave for dancing on a stage again far too much for my peace of mind, and I didn't want to turn it into a lasting contract because of that. I was just about to go back to the supermarket when your aunt called me.  
Jenny was afraid that your offer would just be another offer for a cheesy musical in one of the countless non professional so-called theaters, but something about your aunt made me agree to meet you nonetheless. Jenny insisted on us meeting in the coffee-shop where she works until she will get the yes or no from the fashion design school where she wants to study, so she could keep an eye on me. She's six years younger than I am, but she's behaving like an elder sister, protecting me from all those greedy managers of shady night club shows who dared to offer me a contract over the past two years.”

Thomas had listened quietly to the dark-haired dancer, and he couldn't fight against the wide grin of relief spreading out on his face as he asked: “So, you're not a couple, but only friends?”

Robert smiled at him. “Jenny is like a beloved sister for me, Thomas. We are very close, but there has never been more than friendship between us, nor will that ever happen. I could never fall in love with a woman this way – if you know what I mean. I hope that this won't be a problem for you, Thomas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will mainly be told from Thomas' and Robert's POV, and I had to start with Thomas, but I might add the POVs of other characters along the way as well.


	4. The Ballet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has gone back to meet Robert in his flat, and Robert has told him that he isn't the womanizer Thomas thought him to be. How will Thomas react to his confession and will Robert truly accept Thomas' offer and come with him to Munich?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you will learn more about the ballet itself and about the different roles. It took me some time to figure something unique out, because I didn't want to just re-tell Romeo and Juliet with my ballet, and also not just the modern version of it, the West Side Story. I hope that you will like my idea.

Thomas stared at Robert, his lips parted to a disbelieving expression of what could only be shocked surprise. The young dancer couldn't quite tell why he felt as dismayed about the blond's reaction as he actually did, but somehow he had expected the young manager of the _'Old Firehouse'_ to be more open when it came to such preferences like he had just admitted. Robert realized that he had even hoped that the Münchner would perhaps share them, although he didn't know why this should be the case and why it should make a difference. It had been a very long time since he had last merely thought about coming closer to anyone this way, he had been too wounded and hurt to let anyone special in his life and his heart.

Robert had focused on his full recovery and his two jobs only over the last two years, finding comfort in Jenny's friendship and understanding, and he had avoided places where he could have been in danger to fall for a handsome face or well-shaped body. The dark-haired Pole had even broken the contact to most of his old friends from his time as a dancer, their stories about their lives on the stage a constant reminder of what he himself had lost and too painful to stand it.

“Uhm, of course, this is not a problem, Robert. I – I mean, I'm working in a theater, am I not? Why would I want to perform a ballet about two male lovers on our stage if I had any problems with that? I was sure that you would be the perfect Romeo for our ballet when I still thought that you were a womanizer, and I do believe that we will get along with each other very well, no matter which gender you prefer...” Thomas finally stammered his way through a clumsy explanation, and Robert had a hard time to keep the smile on his face and the disappointment from showing in his eyes.

The younger man wasn't handsome in the classical way like Robert's former rival Mario Gomez or Marco Reus Thomas had mentioned during their first talk, but he had the most beautiful green-blue eyes Robert had ever seen, and his lopsided and mischievous smile gave him the look of a little rascal who had been caught with his hand in the chocolate box and now tried to get away with it unpunished because of his boyish charm and puppy-like, pleading glance.

Robert had felt drawn in to him right at first sight, and he felt disappointed and angry with himself by the thought of how stupid he had been to mistake Thomas' clear admiration for something else, something deeper and more personal than the simple admiration a ballet enthusiast held for a talented dancer.

“I see,” he somehow croaked out, glad that his voice didn't tremble too much and didn't sound as hurt and confused as he felt. Thomas bit his lip, obviously as much at loss for further words as Robert himself was after this awkward talk about their – non-existing in Robert's case – love lives.

 

 ***

 

Jenny coming back with the tea luckily distracted them, filling the heavy silence with her cheerful humming, and Robert smiled gratefully at her when she served Thomas at first and then him. “Thank you, Jenny.” The blonde girl sat down beside him, her attentive hazel eyes darting back and forth between Thomas and him. “Did Robert tell you that we are only close friends and more like siblings, Thomas?” she eventually inquired when neither Thomas nor Robert seemed to be willing to re-start their conversation, and Robert lifted his cup to his mouth to not give himself away when the younger man cleared his throat.

“Yes, Jenny, he did. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I would mind you two being a couple. This was not my intention, and it is none of my business anyway,” the blond said, and Robert watched from the corner of his eye Thomas shifting his weight uncomfortably. “It's only that I feared that Robert wouldn't be willing to leave Dortmund because of a serious relationship.”

Jenny's tone was still maddening cheerful, and she beamed at their guest all over her face. “But why would someone truly loving Lewy do that? He's a ballet dancer after all, and dancers have to move a lot during their far too short careers. Even if we were a real couple, I would never expect him to stay in Dortmund just for my sake. Quite the opposite, I would of course follow him wherever he would go!” She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, fluttering her eyelashes at Thomas. “Wouldn't you do the same if you loved Robert with all your heart, Thomas? Would Robert's career not mean more to you than your own job if you truly loved him?” she asked innocently, and Robert, who had just sipped from the hot beverage to distract himself, spilled the tea back into his cup and all over the saucer and started to cough violently.

Jenny patted his back. “Oh my, Lewy, be careful! I told you before that you shouldn't drink your tea this hot!”

Robert gulped for air, his eyes filling with tears as another coughing fit shook him. “Of course, Jenny, of course,” he pressed out in between his coughing, drawing in some shaky breaths.

Thomas sat on his chair like frozen in place, his face flushed deep red all over and his green-blue eyes darting between Jenny and Robert with a horrified look. “Thomas?” Jenny insisted when the young manager didn't reply, and the Münchner finally pulled himself together with effort. “Of course I would do the same,” he mumbled, obviously deeply embarrassed.

If Robert hadn't felt as shocked about Jenny's straightforwardness and as hurt about Thomas' apparent horror about a relationship with him as he actually did, he would probably have felt pity with the poor man shrinking under Jenny's scrutinizing observation. Jenny luckily seemed to be content with the blond's answer after some more thoughtful consideration, because she didn't try to push him further, and Robert was grateful that he didn't need to listen to Thomas telling them about the girlfriend he surely had. Robert at least couldn't think of any reason why a man like Thomas should be single and not in love with a beautiful young woman adoring him with all her heart – except for his clumsiness maybe, but even this virtue was more charming than disturbing.

“Would you please tell us more about this ballet?” Jenny now asked instead of interviewing Thomas about his love life and embarrass him even more with that than he already was. Robert watched with fascination the young manager's face becoming vivid and passionate with the love he felt for the ballet he wanted to perform, all clumsiness and awkwardness falling off of him like a coat gliding from his shoulders. This ballet must be very special to him, and the dark-haired dancer felt himself starting to burn for it as well, just because of the fire making Thomas' beautiful eyes shine, and this even though he knew only the little about it Mathilda Müller had told him on the phone two days ago.

Her nephew cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, and Robert listened to him with rapt devotion when he finally began to speak.

 

***

 

“The ballet's name is _'Dancing in the Moonlight'_ as I told you before, and it is about a young musician coming from the east side of London. His name is _Romeo Montego_ , and he has just made a big record deal with the _'King Company'_ , the biggest music studio in London and Great Britain. The ballet starts with the party in _Walter King's_ villa to celebrate the contract, and Romeo is introduced to _King's_ wife _Elvira_ and his two sons, _Andrew_ and _Julian_. Sven Bender will dance the _Walter King_ , he has danced in Bonn several years before he came to us. He is a great dancer, but he knows that he won't be able to dance on a professional level for more than perhaps two or three years any longer, and we're glad that he accepted our offer. _Elvira King_ will be danced by Helena Thanstein.”

Thomas went silent, watching Robert's and Jenny's reaction. Robert simply gaped at him for a couple of seconds before he trusted his voice enough to form coherent words. “Helena Thanstein? The magnificent prima ballerina of the Hamburger state opera house? I have once watched her dancing the _Odette_ when I had just moved to Dortmund. One of my friends had gotten a contract in Hamburg, and he invited me to watch the premiere of _Swan Lake_. I have never seen any other ballerina dancing the _Odette_ like Helena did,” he croaked out, and a contented smile spread out on Thomas' features.

“Exactly the one and only Helena Thanstein from Hamburg. She announced her withdrawal from the big stages last year to have more time for her family in the future, and she and her husband decided to move back to Munich where she had once started her career as a young student. When they heard about Mathilda's plans to give young composers and writers a chance and perform their plays, operas and ballets or musicals, they contacted her and offered their help. They are close friends with one of the _'Old Firehouse's'_ biggest supporters, his name is Richard Löwe. He is a successful businessman and theater enthusiast, and he told them about our ballet. Helena and her husband Thomas Tuchel were intrigued and called us, and Thomas agreed to become our choreographer because he believes in our ballet as much as I do.”

Jenny pursed her lips, looking impressed. She smiled at Robert and squeezed his hand. “Wow, Lewy! I heard you talking about Thomas Tuchel's skills as a choreographer a lot of times. This ballet must have great potential, then. Helena Thanstein and Thomas Tuchel on your stage, that's just wow! You're not taking half-measures, Thomas, are you?”

Thomas blushed and managed to look sheepish and smug at the same time. “That was all Aunt Mathilda's and Richard Löwe's doing. Maybe, I should have mentioned them right away, you surely wouldn't have turned my offer down right away then, Robert.” The blond looked him in the eyes, his expression shaded with something Robert couldn't quite detect. He wasn't sure what the younger man expected or wanted from him, but Robert had never been a liar, and he didn't intend to start lying now of all times.

“To be honest, Thomas, I'm glad you didn't mention Helena Thanstein and Thomas Tuchel beforehand. I don't think that I would have called you and asked you to come back then, too afraid that I wouldn't meet your expectations with Helena dancing with me and her husband being the choreographer. I'm scared like shit now that I know about them, and it was only your passionate speech that made me gather the last shreds of my courage, the prospect of working with two of my absolute idols would never have had the same effect but quite the opposite, I fear. I've never thought that your ballet wouldn't be respectable or some kind of seedy night club show, and I feel honored that you think that highly of me to offer me the role of the _Romeo_ without having seen me dancing.”

He must have found the right words, because Thomas' features lit up and his jaw unclenched. “You are our Romeo, Robert, and you will do great, I know that for sure.” He cleared his throat and sipped from his tea in the halfhearted attempt to cover his new blush. “Would you like me to tell you more about the ballet?”

Robert's nod was as eager as Jenny's excited “yes, please, Thomas, tell us more!”

“Very well. Romeo and Julian, the younger son of Walter King fall for each other at first sight, and Romeo follows Julian into the garden to court him and confess his love to him. Their secret date in the moonlight is watched by Andrew, Julian's older brother, who is not pleased when he sees Romeo and Julian together. He tells Romeo's manager _Bill Santini_ about Romeo's behavior, and the two follow the two young lovers to separate them. Bill tries to convince Romeo that their love can never be, while Andrew tells Julian that Romeo will never truly love him as the man from the east end of London he actually is. The first act ends with Romeo and Julian trying to reach out for each other and Andrew and Bill pulling them away.” Thomas eyed Robert musingly. “Marco Reus will dance the _Andrew King_ , and Nuri Sahin dances Romeo's manager _Bill Santini_. Romeo's band _Carlo_ , _Josh_ and _Steven_ will be danced by some other young dancers fresh from the academy, Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang – we call him Auba, Joshua Kimmich and Julian Weigl.”

“I see.” Robert kept his face impassive. “Marco is the perfect choice for the Andrew, I guess.” He could feel Jenny's worried gaze upon his face, but he refused to look at her, only held Thomas' gaze.

Thomas chewed on his lip for a moment. “Act two starts with Romeo coming from the stage after a concert, surrounded by fans and giving autographs while Julian is watching him sadly from a dark corner before leaving the concert hall. Romeo sees him before he disappears and follows him to the villa of his father, singing for him under Julian's window. Julian finally comes into the garden to meet him there, where they confess their undying love for each other once more, thinking themselves undisturbed and hidden by the thick rosebush. But Andrew is watching them again, making plans to end their secret love.

Act three starts with Andrew visiting Romeo in his house and trying to seduce him to make him forget Julian. Romeo withstands him, but when Julian suddenly appears to visit him too, he misunderstands the situation, accusing Romeo to cheat on him with his brother. Romeo tries to explain himself to him, but Julian refuses to listen and runs away from him. Andrew follows him, telling Romeo to stay away from his brother while Robert stays behind with a broken heart.

In act four, Romeo has reached the top of the charts, his record being honored with an award on another party. Julian has made up his mind and wants to talk to Romeo, begging him to give him a second chance, but Romeo is still too hurt and refuses to listen to him. Julian is desperate and runs away from the party. Romeo realizes how much he loves him and follows him just to see Julian being hit by a car. Romeo runs over to him and takes him in his arms, but when Julian's parents and brother arrive with the paramedics, they take Julian away from him and forbid him to ever see Julian again.”

Thomas sipped from his tea to smear his throat, and Robert waited impatiently for him to continue.

“Who is dancing my Julian?” he asked, not sure whether or not Thomas had mentioned the name of the dancer earlier, and when the young manager smiled and Jenny snickered very pleased, he realized what he had said.  
Robert wasn't surprised that he wanted to dance this ballet, but he was surprised about how much he wanted to dance this ballet. He had never craved for a role as much as he craved for this one in his entire life, and he knew that he would even want to dance the Romeo if the _'Old Firehouse'_ had been a much smaller theater than it already was. Robert had never cared that much about fame, his wish to dance had always come from the deepest parts of his heart, and seeing the sometimes rather weak performances of Mario Gomez and the other dancers Gardiolo had chosen over him had been what had deterred him away from Munich.

He wanted to dance the _Romeos_ , _Siegfrieds_ and other important roles because he felt them in his blood, because he melted with the roles he danced, actually _becoming_ the _Romeos_ and _Siegfrieds_ instead of only dancing them. Robert knew that he would have begged Thomas on his knees to let him dance the _Romeo Montego_ by now, but Thomas' gaze told him that he wouldn't need to do that.

“Act five is the last act,” the younger one now continued. “Romeo comes to the hospital where they have brought Julian, but Andrew meets him in the lobby and tells him that Julian has died. Romeo is desperate and doesn't want to live any longer, and he climbs the stairs to jump from the roof of the hospital. When Andrew realizes that Romeo truly loves Julian, he follows him and comes just in time to keep him from jumping. He tells him that Julian is injured but alive, and he asks him to come with him because Julian loves him too. Walter King tries to keep Romeo from entering Julian's hospital room, but Andrew and Elvira beg him to allow Romeo's and Julian's love, and Walter King finally gives them his blessing. The last scene is Romeo sitting at Julian's bed and holding his hand, finally united while Andrew silently closes the door to leave them alone.”

Thomas finished his explanation and gazed back and forth between Robert and Jenny, his shoulders tensed as he awaited their judgment.

Robert was left speechless, but his feelings must show on his face, because the blond Münchner relaxed and smiled cautiously when he looked at him again. “Will you come with me and dance the _Romeo Montego_ on our stage, Robert?” he asked, his voice hoarse and trembling ever so slightly.

Robert only nodded, swallowing against the huge lump in his throat. “Yes, I will come with you, Thomas. I will leave Dortmund and come with you, because there is no way that I would allow any other dancer to dance the Romeo Montego. But, you still haven't told me who my Julian will be.”

Thomas chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, I did, in the coffee-shop. Erik Durm. Erik Durm will dance your sweet Julian, he is perfect for this role. He comes fresh from the ballet academy and it is always risky to give a beginner such an important role, but his performance really impressed the hell out of Aunt Mathilda and me. He will become a famous dancer like you are one day, I know that for sure.”

Robert felt jealous when he heard Thomas praising his so far unknown Julian, but when the blond winked at him with his right eye, gifting him with his mischievous smile, Robert smiled back. “I am curious to meet him, then,” he said, pushing his chair away from the table to rise to his feet. “How long can you stay? I have to pack some things if I shall come with you right away.”

Thomas looked at Jenny for approval to take Robert back with him to Munich without longer preparations, and when the young woman nodded, he smiled contentedly. “As long as you will need to pack your things, Robert. Are you really sure that you want to come with me? You can have the flat in my parents' house. They are more than pleased to offer it to you, and the rent is fair. You can of course look for a flat yourself, but the rents in Munich are pretty high without knowing someone who can help you.”

Robert felt a shiver run along his spine. “That sounds good. Are you still living at your parents' place as well?” he asked hesitantly, not sure whether or not he would stand being so close to Thomas and see him with his girlfriend every day.

“No, I'm living in the granny flat in Aunt Mathilda's house. She inherited it together with the theater, and it is only two streets away from the the _'Old Firehouse'_. I'm visiting my parents on a regular basis though, I hope that this won't be a problem for you?”

Thomas hadn't mentioned that he lived together with his girlfriend, and he surely would have done it if this was the case, right? Robert shook his head. “No, of course that's not a problem for me at all. I would love to take you up on your offer. Your and your parents' offer of course.”

“That's great!” Thomas beamed at him, and Jenny stroked his arm as she stood to help him pack his bags. Robert could see that she felt as sorry about him leaving Dortmund and her as he felt, but her voice was firm and didn't allow any protest when she said: “Of course, Lewy is ready to leave Dortmund. It is about time for him to leave the place that reminds him of his injury and what he had lost, Thomas. It is about time for him to start a new life. So please take him with you and make sure that he will show the world that he is still the wonderful dancer he has once been. Let him be your Romeo and prove to the theater world that Robert Lewandowski is not forgotten and still the best dancer Munich has ever seen!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you know what the ballet 'Dancing in the Moonlight' is about. The next chapter would be all about Robert arriving in Munich to meet the crew of the theater. If you like the 'ballet' I have created here and want me to continue with this story, leave kudos and comments to show me that you're still interested.


	5. Arrival In Munich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert agreed to come with Thomas and meet his aunt and their crew. What will happen after their arrival in Munich?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy that you seem to like my special version of 'Romeo and Juliet', thank you so much for your feedback under the last chapter. 
> 
> Robert will meet some of the other dancers and Aunt Mathilda in this chapter, and to all those of you who like Jenny: don't worry, she will show up rather soon again, even though she for once has to stay in Dortmund.  
> There is a scene in this chapter between Robert and Marco who have an interesting past and some of you might think that this story will turn out to become some kind of threesome, knowing that I have written the three of them together before and this story being inspired by Janie94, who loves Robert, Thomas and Marco being entangled in complicated threesomes.  
> But, I can assure you that this story won't include threesomes of any kind. You can rely on the tags, I am always very careful with them, and knowing that threesomes are not everybody's cup of tea, I would have tagged it right from the beginning if I had intended to write about such kind of relationships including more than two people. I won't reveal the other relationships too early, but this story is all about Robert and Thomas becoming a couple, I promise you. There might be some jealousy and love confusions, because what would a good love story be without them, but that's all. ;-D
> 
> As always, it's up to you whether or not I will continue with this story and at least some of my other works, my life is rather hard and straining and my free time pretty limited, I simply can't waste the rare and precious time I have left for myself with doing things no one seems to care about. I will decide after each chapter and the reactions to the updates whether or not I will continue writing, so if you want to know what will happen next, leave kudos and comments and let me know. The more feedback I get, the more it motivates me to update as fast as possible.

The rather long drive back to Munich had gone by surprisingly fast, some merciful theater gods being so kind to let any traffic jam that had bothered Thomas the previous day that much dissipate before they went right into it. Thomas had had to keep his eyes on the road most of the time, but he had been acutely aware of Robert sitting beside him in the passenger seat, the Pole's admission that he preferred men repeating itself in Thomas' spinning mind again and again. The young manager knew that most people thought that all ballet dancers were gay, but this was only a stupid prejudice, a lot of dancers preferred the other gender and were happily married, and Thomas somehow had thought that Robert belonged to those dancers who were straight and not interested in other men.

They had talked only little, both of them busied with their own thoughts, but the silence hadn't been uncomfortable or awkward. Thomas knew that he tended to fill awkward silence with stupid and meaningless chattering when he was nervous, but Robert's mere presence seemed to have a calming effect on him, and he had relaxed gradually, the dark-haired dancer smiling at him now and then being enough of a reassurance for him. Thomas could see that Robert missed Jenny, the young woman who had become some kind of sister for him over the past three years, and he had given his new first dancer some privacy to talk to her on the phone when they had stopped for a short break to refuel and relieve themselves, buying some water for them while Robert called Jenny.

The sun was slowly going down when they had finally reached Munich and Thomas had driven them to the _'Old Firehouse'_ without asking Robert whether or not he would be okay with that. Somehow, the young manager could sense that the Pole wanted to see the theater at first, and he found his suspicion proved to be right as Robert now excited his car with a smile on his face, his deep blue eyes traveling over the brick frontage of the large building that had once actually been an old firehouse, just like the name suggested it.

“It has been such a long time since I last visited this theater, but it still looks like I remembered it,” Robert mused, his voice filled with slight fear and anticipation at the same time.

“Karl has kept it in good shape as long as he was able to, and after his death, Richard Löwe insisted on providing Aunt Mathilda with an interest-free loan for the needed renovations. Our theater might not be one of real big and important ones, but it is in good shape and we're all giving our best to make it one of Munich's best theaters in the not so distant future.”

Robert's smile now directed at him made his heart miss several beats. “I didn't doubt that for just one second, Thomas, the _'Old Firehouse'_ has always been a respectable theater. I am curious to see how it looks inside, I mean except for the auditorium, and I must admit that I would be grateful for not having to wait for much longer to meet your aunt. I am pretty nervous and I want to get our first personal meeting over with.” The dark-haired dancer's smile turned into a sheepish grin, and Thomas chuckled.

“I can imagine, but Aunt Mathilda is not as fearsome as you obviously think her to be. She is wonderful and you will love and adore her as much as I and all of the others of our crew are doing, don't worry. I called her while you were napping, they are already waiting for us. The entire crew is eager to meet you.”

Robert groaned. “Jenny is right, you're really not taking half-measures. The entire crew? Now, I'm really scared!”

Thomas opened the side-door with his key to let them in. “Okay, not all of them, but Aunt Mathilda, Thomas Tuchel, Helena and some of the other dancers. Better to do that now than dreading an entire night over it,” he shrugged, beckoning Robert to walk in front of him. “This direction, the corridor leads to the back of the stage.”

Robert hesitated, shooting him an appraising look before turning around to walk in front of him, his hips swinging like only the hips of professional dancers swung. Thomas' throat went dry with desire, and he took deep breaths to calm himself down, because there was no way that he would meet his aunt and their staff with a raging hard-on tenting his jeans. The next months would be torture, that much he could already tell.

Being so close to the man he had fallen in love with seventeen and whom he still desired that much without acting on his desire would demand every ounce of strength from him, but Thomas was willing to endure that for his beloved theater's sake. He only needed to find a way how to deal with his inappropriate feelings and suppress them, because he doubted that Robert would ever return them. Thomas was realistic enough to assess his own attractiveness, and Robert surely wasn't interested in a clumsy theater manager who had two left feet when it came to dancing.

Voices coming from the stage distracted him, and he almost bumped into Robert who had stopped abruptly in the doorway before entering the stage. Thomas peered over his shoulder to see Thomas Tuchel gesturing widely with his hands as he explained something to the young dancers who would dance the band-members of Romeo's band called _'The Black Larks'_. Auba, Joshua and Julian listened to the famous choreographer with rapt devotion, literally hanging on his lips as they tried to put his instructions into the fluent motions he expected from them.

His aunt stood at the edge of the stage before the orchestra pit with her arms folded across her chest, watching the rehearsal like she always did. Erik, Marco and Helena stood beside her, Erik and Helena with attentive eyes while Marco's face showed a bored expression Thomas had seen on him ever since Mats had become injured. At first, Thomas had feared that the blond dancer would refuse to dance the Andrew King if Mats wouldn't be the Romeo, and it was a relief to see him standing there in his training suit, even though the defiant expression annoyed Thomas. Manu and Philipp sat in the auditorium, watching Tuchel explaining his choreography to the first ballet they had written and composed with eagle eyes, and Thomas smiled when he saw them holding hands for reassurance, their gazes fixed on Auba, Joshua and Julian who did their best to dance their part they way Tuchel explained it to them. They had great potential but were still rather young and inexperienced, something that would change over the forthcoming weeks and months like Thomas knew from other actors and dancers he had worked together with.

Tuchel was too occupied with his explanation to notice the newcomers, but Mathilda of course had seen them and smiled at her nephew. Thomas was just about to gently push Robert in his back and make him move again when the dark-haired dancer suddenly strode forward, right in the direction of the three young dancers just to stop in front of them and take up position. “No, no, not like that, this is all wrong. You must lift your arms higher – like that!” the former first dancer of the Dortmunder ballet said, starting to dance the sequences of steps Tuchel had wanted Auba, Joshua and Julian to perform. “Look, it is much easier when you're doing it this way. Keeping the tension in your back is everything!”

Robert started to dance the sequence his namesake had tried to explain to the three young dancers, and all Thomas could do was staring at him with a dropped jaw like all of the others on the stage, his aunt and the strict choreographer included.

 

***

 

Robert hadn't even realized what he was doing when he was already standing in the middle of the stage, explaining the right moves to the three young men staring at him with their mouths hanging open and a disbelieving expression on their faces. Robert's trained eyes had immediately seen what their problem was, and the teacher inside him he had been over the past two years rose to the surface, taking over control and showing the young dancers what they had to change to dance the sequence the right way.

Robert hopped and whirled over the stage in his jeans and sneakers, and only the deadly silence made him stop again to look around. Eleven pairs of eyes of different colors were staring at him, and Robert came to halt and bit his lip, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

Thomas Tuchel, the choreographer who had been responsible for the last performance of _Swan Lake_ in Hamburg – having gotten standing ovations and excited praise for his choreography for each and every single one of the twentieth times the ballet had been shown – watched him with a mixture of annoyance and dry amusement, while Thomas stared at him with something akin to horrified and stunned admiration. The small woman who must be Thomas' aunt regarded him with thoughtfully pursed lips, while the others were obviously torn between shocked surprise and amusment.

“Uhm, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your instructions...” Robert finally mumbled, wishing for a hole in the wood of the stage to swallow him.

“I see. I will take your vivid way of trying to help me and offer yourself as some kind of assistant as a compliment then, Robert,” Thomas Tuchel finally stated wryly, unfolding his arms and crossing the short distance to shake his hand. “I must admit that I am pleased to work with someone who is able to put my instructions into action that easily and skillfully like you have just done. I actually didn't think that had lost your astonishing ability to understand any choreographer you're working with by instinct, but having real proof of it is more than exciting! Welcome to Munich, Robert, we are more than happy that you decided to dance the Romeo Montego.”

Robert shook Tuchel's hand, knowing that he was probably grinning stupidly all over his face. “Thank you, Mr. Tuchel. I cannot tell you how excited I am to be here and work under your instructions.” He dared to relax a little bit, glad that the great choreographer didn't mind his more than cheeky behavior.

“How touchy! The great Robert Lewandowski being all over the moon about dancing on such a small stage – something he would never have considered a couple of years ago, right? You weren't content with being the second dancer behind Mario Gomez who had deserved the right of being the principal after long years of tears, sweat and straining exercises, and you decided to take the easier ways and leave instead of fighting for this honor, searching your luck on another stage. You could have waited two or three more years for your chance in Munich, being young enough for that, but playing second fiddle wasn't enough for your ego, was it? The others might be that excited about the prospect of you 'honoring' this theater with your performance without wanting any proof of you still being the great dancer you admittedly have once been, but I am not one of your devoted admirers, and I'll need some proof that you still know how to dance before I'll agree to dance this ballet together with you!”

Robert turned his head to look at the man who had hissed these scornful words at him, his blue eyes meeting the amber-green eyes of Marco Reus staring at him. No one moved or dared to say anything while the two dancers measured each other with hard eyes, Robert finally smiling at him, a smile that looked more like a panther baring his teeth like a true smile.

“Marco, how nice to finally meet you again. You're perfect for the role of the Andrew, we will have a lot of fun together, I'm sure about that!” Robert mocked, not caring about what the others might think about him. “You want proof? Fine, I'll give it to you!”

The dark-haired dancer turned around to Thomas still standing on the threshold like frozen in place, his expression softening when the blond's beautiful green-blue eyes begged him to not damage everything right in the very first hour.

“Marco is right, Thomas, you shouldn't offer me the main role of a full-length ballet without having seen me dancing beforehand. Do you have a record of the Bolero somewhere here in the theater?”

Thomas blinked, struggling for words, and it was his aunt finally breaking the spell everyone seemed to be under, nodding her head and walking over to a small table on the other side of stage with a hi-fi system upon it. “Yes, we have. But you should warm up before dancing, shouldn't you?” she asked him, but Robert grimly shook his head. “Yes, I should if I wanted to dance the entire Bolero. But maybe, the first couple of minutes will be enough for Marco, they are slow enough to be danced without warm-up and I don't want him having to worry about my dancing skills longer than necessary.”

The dark-haired Pole walked over to where Helena Thanstein was standing and watching him with a slight smile on her beautiful face. Her honey-blond hair was tied back into a bun, and she took Robert's hand without objection when he bowed before her.

“My dear Helena Thanstein, I have always adored and admired you as one of the greatest prima ballerinas I have ever seen dancing, especially your wonderful Odette. Would you honor me by being my prima ballerina for the Bolero?” he asked politely, and Helena snickered, her cheeks coloring in an adorable pink. She looked so much younger than she actually was when she curtsied and said: “It would be my pleasure, Robert, I have once seen you dancing the Bolero, there has never been another one dancing the Bolero like you.”

The former queen of all principal dancers of all of the many Hamburger theaters let him guide her to the middle of the stage, and when Mathilda started the Bolero, Robert took her hand and started to dance with her.

 

***

 

Thomas was seventeen again.

The first silent tunes of the Bolero wafted through the air, not quite as beautiful as they would have been played by a real orchestra, but drawing the young theater manager in instantly again nevertheless.

It had been a rather long time since the blond had last listened to the Bolero, the bittersweet memories of this magical evening when he had listened to it while watching Robert dance for the very first time too painful to listen to the music that seemed to be eternal and reach his soul like a sharp knife cutting through his insides and his heart until nothing was left from him except for his longing and desperate desire for the only being he had ever loved and probably would ever love.

Robert was still dressed in his white shirt with the rolled-up sleeves and his dark jeans, he had only kicked off his shoes and undressed his socks to dance with bare feet for a better grip and hold, but his clothing didn't hinder him only the slightest as he now started to dance with Helena Thanstein by his side, the older woman dressed in her usual training jumpsuit with the short skirt around her slim waist.

Thomas remembered vaguely Helena once telling him that she had danced the Bolero a couple of years ago as well, but as much as the blond manager admired her, he couldn't take his eyes from the dark-haired Pole dancing beside her, slowly whirling her around and lifting her over his head as if she weighted nothing more than a light feather. Robert Lewandowski and Helena Thanstein had never danced together before, that much Thomas knew for sure, but they were perfect together as if they had been the principal couple of one of the real big stages for years, their floating motions bringing everyone watching them under their spell with ease.

Thomas held his breath and he was sure that the others did the same, probably even Marco Reus who had doubted Robert's abilities and skills and challenged him to dance fully dressed in his street wear right after his arrival in the first place.

Robert didn't need to wear golden suits to shine like one of the ancient gods he had Thomas reminded of the first time he had danced the Bolero, he only needed to sway to the sides like a leave in the soft summer breeze, elegantly stretch his arms and legs the way he did now or rise to the balls of his feet to make Thomas' chest ache with all the love and desire he had suppressed for so long.

The dark-haired dancer with the beautiful male features now took Helena by her waist to lift her up over his head again, slowly turning around his own axis before throwing her into the air and catching her again as if they had practiced that a thousand times, and the former prima ballerina came willingly into his arms, letting Robert swing her around and bend her over his arms with the natural trust only really great dancers held for each other. Their dance was like the love confession of two beautiful magical beings having been apart for far too long, the ancient god of another world dancing with his beloved goddess, bringing life and love to every other being living in their fairy-like world and watching them celebrate their happy reunion after centuries of longing and waiting.

Thomas watched, almost feeling like a such a fairy-like being himself, and the sweetness and magic of this moment took his breath away, making him forget everything except for the music and the two dancers inviting him to their world.

Aunt Mathilda stopping the music all of a sudden was like a hard, physical blow, and Thomas blinked and gasped for air when his starved lungs reminded him rather forcefully of the necessity of a regular breathing.

“This has to be enough of a proof for you, Marco. I don't want Robert getting injured just because you were not willing to trust my judgment!” she told the blond dancer strictly, and Marco blushed, unwilling admiration showing in his eyes for a brief moment.

“Robert obviously still knows how to dance,” he admitted, “we will see whether or not he will be able to dance a full-length and pretty straining ballet with the same ease.”

Robert smiled at Marco, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and Thomas unconsciously balled his fists, angry at Robert's behalf. “With dancers like Helena and you by my side, this will be rather easy, Marco. I trust Thomas Tuchel's skills as a choreographer to get the best out of each and every one of us.” He turned around to walk over to the table where Thomas' aunt was still standing, watching the scene with an unreadable expression.

“Mrs. Müller? I am happy and honored to finally make your acquaintance, and I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart that you called me and sent your dear nephew to Dortmund, willing to give me this chance and dance on your stage.”

Aunt Mathilda waved at Thomas to join them, and the young manager blinked again and hurried to his aunt's side when she took the offered hand of their new first dancer and smiled at the nervous young man.

“The pleasure and honor is all mine, Robert, please call me Mathilda like everyone does! I am happy that you agreed to come back to Munich and give us a chance. I have to admit that I craved to have you dancing on this stage ever since I inherited the _'Old Firehouse'_ , and I always hoped that this would happen one day. My nephew Thomas and I will do everything to make your start here in our beautiful hometown easy and smooth, and I do hope that you will start considering Munich as your home soon again as well. Welcome in Munich, Robert, welcome in the _'Old Firehouse'_ and welcome our team!”


	6. Different Views

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert has arrived in Munich and already given an example of his dancing skills. But, there is some unfinished business between Marco and him. Will this getting in their way and disturb the rehearsals?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update took me so long, but I haven't had any time left for writing within the last days except for my dark Götzeus-story. I managed to write this chapter in one go this morning, and you will finally learn what happened eight years ago. Like in real life, Marco and Robert have different views on what happened, I am curious to learn what you are thinking about both of their opinions.
> 
> As always, if you want me to continue, leave kudos and comments, your support and feedback is the only thing keeping me writing and posting for you.

Robert's head was spinning when they arrived at Aunt Mathilda's house, and the young dancer had to smile when he realized that he already thought of Thomas' aunt as 'Aunt Mathilda' himself. The slim woman ruling her little realm with a strict but kind hand had invited him to stay in her guestroom until Robert could move in the granny flat of Thomas' parents, and he had accepted her offer with gratitude, because the thought of having to stay in a cold and impersonal hotel room had bothered him more than he had wanted to admit.

“Thomas, show our guest his room and the bathroom belonging to it, I am sure that Robert will be thankful for having some minutes to himself and being able to refresh himself a little bit. This day must have been straining for you, my dear!” Mathilda smiled up at Robert, and he returned the smile with warmth pooling in his stomach.

“Yes, it was, but really in a good way, Aun... ähm Mrs. Müller...” Robert replied, stumbling over the addressing he had wanted to use and which seemed to be so natural for him as he regarded the small woman with the ageless, delicate features and the warm eyes.

His host and new employer snickered when she noticed his confusion. “For heaven's sake, you are not going to call me Mrs. Müller the entire time, Robert, are you? Aunt Mathilda or Mathilda will do perfectly fine, my dear, that's how most of my crew call me anyway.” She winked at him, and Robert felt himself relax entirely, his knees almost giving in underneath him with his relief.

“Only if you'll call me Lewy, then, Aunt Mathilda,” he said, shooting a quick sidelong glance at Thomas who stood beside him, his expression turning into one of a pouting child by Robert's words. “I would be pleased if you called me Lewy as well, Thomas,” he hurried to say, and his heart missed two or three beats when the blond's features lit up by that.

“It will be our greatest pleasure, Lewy,” Mathilda answered for both of them. “Thomas, would you perhaps stop standing there like a mute statue frozen in place and help Robert making himself comfortable instead? I'll be in the kitchen, young men need proper meals!”

Before either Robert or Thomas could react, she had whirled around her axis and left them alone in her hallway, and after a moment where both men kept just staring after her with a slightly stupid expression on their faces, Thomas shook his head like a dog would shake himself after being forced into the tub for one of the hated baths, grinning sheepishly at Robert.

“Your Jenny and my Aunt Mathilda have a lot in common, that's for sure. Come with me, I will show you your room. Tomorrow, we can visit my parents so you can see their granny flat and decide whether or not you really want to rent it. The rehearsals have already started, but Thomas promised me that he would stay longer in the evenings to practice with you, I am sure that you won't have any problems with catching up. Your impromptu performance today was truly impressing.”

Robert had heard much more excited and skillful compliments and praises about his dancing in the early days of his career, but none of them had made him blush like Thomas' simple words did.

“Thank you, Thomas, I'm glad that I didn't disappoint you after all the trust you'd put in me without having seen me dancing for eight years, your words mean a lot to me. And yes, Jenny and Aunt Mathilda have a lot in common.” He hesitated. “I already miss Jenny pretty much. I wouldn't have thought that. But she has to make her own way, and I hope that the school she wants to study at will accept her.”

Thomas reached out to briefly stroke his arm. “I can imagine how much you must miss her, Lewy. It's the same for me when I can't see my aunt for a couple of days. She is not only my aunt, but also my mentor, my role model and my best friend. She knows me better than I know myself, I guess.” He took Robert's overnight bag and gestured at the stairs leading upwards. “Aunt Mathilda is also a great cook, we shouldn't let her wait, because she can also turn into a growling dragoness when something displeases her faster than you can watch. Two young men not valuing her cooking skills highly enough definitely belongs to that.”

Robert chuckled but nodded and followed Thomas upstairs, the warm feeling in his stomach staying for the rest of the evening and chasing the last doubts he had had away.

 

***

 

“What the heck had gotten into you, Marco? How could you treat Robert Lewandowski this way?” Philipp asked with a growl in his voice, staring at the blond dancer with his hands put on his hips and an annoyed expression in his eyes.

After the end of the rehearsal, Manu and Philipp had come into the locker room where Erik, Marco, Auba, Joshua and Julian were still sitting, not in a hurry to change into their street wear at all.

“Yes, I would like to know that, too, Marco.” Auba said, his sock dangling forgotten from his hand.

Erik wanted to know the reason for Marco's rude behavior himself, but he hadn't dared to ask him about it until Philipp and Manu had shown up. The taller composer had wrapped one arm around his boyfriend in a protective way, glaring at Marco with annoyance.

“You were incredibly rude, don't you dare deterring Robert away, Marco! He is the perfect Romeo for our ballet!” Manu now came to Philipp's help, finally making the blond looking up at them.

“I am sure that Mats will be pleased to hear that, Manu! Even more after you telling him the same before you knew about Robert!” Marco now snarled, and Erik could see Philipp's and Manu's cheeks coloring with a blush of embarrassment.

“Mats is a great dancer, and he will get his chance, but you must admit that Robert is one of the best dancers in Germany, if not in the world!” Manu defended himself. “Mats would be the first one to admit that himself.”

“Which doesn't mean that him hearing you talking like this wouldn't yet hurt him, Manu,” Joshua stated, his voice quiet and not reproachful, only musing. “Robert Lewandowski is for sure an outstanding dancer, and we're lucky that we'll get the chance to dance with him, but I am on Marco's side here, I don't think that Mats deserves to be forgotten and treated like this.”

Marco shot him a grateful look, and Erik could only agree to Joshua's words. But this couldn't be the only explanation for the behavior the older dancer had shown, and he cleared his throat and looked Marco straight in the eyes when he said: “You're right, Marco, Mats would have been a great Romeo, and he will certainly get the chance to prove himself. But your rudeness seemed to have personal reasons and not come from your wish to protect a friend only.”

Marco avoided his eyes, fiddling with the laces of his shoes. Silence had fallen over the locker room after Erik's question, everyone seemed to hold their breath as they waited for Marco's explanation. The blond chewed on his lip, and he looked like someone who was haunted by painful memories. Erik could see the sorrow and hurt hidden in Marco's beautiful amber-green eyes, and he almost regretted that he had asked him about his acquaintance with Robert, but only almost, because Erik really wanted to know what had happened between the dark-haired Pole and the man who would dance the role of Julian's brother – his brother in the ballet.

Finally, Marco sighed in defeat. “Fair enough, I'll tell you. I was a student in the last year of the National Ballet's school here in Munich when Robert came from Poland. He was like a sparkling jewel among lusterless flints, like a diamond or sapphire if you want to rely on his eye-color. He outshone every other male dancer effortlessly, and he even put the prima ballerina Anna in the shade when it came to the Bolero. We all knew that he should become the principal despite his young age and the fact that he had just come to Germany, but Pepe Gardiolo refused to acknowledge his outstanding talent because of his own not so secret relationship with his principal Mario Gomez.  
Robert didn't say much, but he always stayed longer for extra training, he learned German with grim determination and he visited the school on a regular basis, giving us students good advice while we prepared for our exams. That's how we fell in love with each other.”

Erik heard the others gasp out in surprise, and he suppressed his own gasp only with effort. He had already suspected something like that, but it somehow hurt nonetheless. Was Marco still in love with Robert? Was that the reason why he had been that angry? Unrequited love? Erik wasn't so sure whether or not he really wanted to know that.

Marco took another deep breath and continued with his story. “Then, Mario became injured, and Gardiolo couldn't ignore Robert any longer. Robert danced the Bolero and _'La Sylphide'_ afterwards, and we all thought that he would stay the principal in the next seasons as well, because Robert was simply the best dancer Munich had had in a very long time. But Gardiolo ignored what was obvious to everyone else, giving his lover Mario the main roles again, even though Mario's best times were clearly over after his injury.  
Robert was furious, and he refused to be the second dancer behind Mario. I begged him to be patient and wait for his chance, but he didn't want to listen to me.  
Robert took the offer from Dortmund without telling me beforehand, leaving me behind with a broken heart. He promised me to visit me as often as possible and come to my exams, but he broke his promise and didn't come. I went to Gardiolo, trying to put in a good word for Robert, but Gardiolo didn't take that well. When the day of my exams came shortly after my talk with him, he flunked me and I had to do them for a second time even though I had always been the best student of my class. Robert called me the morning after I had failed, but I refused to talk to him. We've never talked to each other again ever since then.”

Marco went silent, looking exhausted, and Auba put his arm around his shoulder. “I am sorry to hear that, Marco, that must have been horrible for you. Perhaps, you should try to talk to him and sort things out. Eight years are a very long time, too long to bear a grudge any longer. You are a great dancer, and this ballet will be your chance to become known and famous. The role of the Andrew is an important role, and Robert dancing the Romeo can only help you,” the Gabonese said, and Marco leaned against him and smiled gratefully at him. His eyes searched Erik's though, and Erik laid all the confidence and reassurance he could muster in his gaze.

“Auba is right, Marco. Don't let your past come between you and ruin your chances. Gardiolo was the one flunking you for selfish reasons, not Robert. I am sure that he has had a good reason for not coming to your exams,” he said, and Marco sighed but nodded. “We will see.” He turned his head to look at Philipp and Manu whose expressions had softened by their friend's explanation. “I will be more professional in the future, I promise you,” the blond said, and Philipp and Manu nodded their heads in unison. “We believe you, Marco. We're sorry for our first reaction, it's just that we want Robert to dance our Romeo so badly. I really don't want him to be scared away by anything,” Philipp explained his own rather rude behavior.

Julian, who had said nothing so far, slowly shook his head. “You don't have to fear that this will happen, Fips. Robert is determined to dance our sweet 'Julian's' Romeo,” he remarked with a wink at Erik. “I could see that in his eyes when he explained the steps to us – to his band-members.”

Now, it was Erik's turn to blush, and he lowered his head down to hide it. Robert Lewandowski had impressed him, and he wasn't so sure about the way he felt about the good-looking Pole, Marco and him dancing this triangle. Only time would tell how it would turn out to be, but when he felt Marco's eyes upon his face, he looked up again and smiled at him.

Only time would tell, but Erik was as determined to dance the Julian as Robert seemed to be when it came to dancing his Romeo.

Dancing had always been everything Erik had wanted to do, the music and the steps and moves being like a fever in his blood since he had been a young boy, and dancing would be what he would do, now and in the future, because that was what Erik had been born for.

 

***

 

“That was delicious, Aunt Mathilda. I'm so full, I don't think that I can eat one more bite without risking to explode.” Thomas leaned back in his chair, stroking over his pleasantly full stomach. His aunt had cooked on of her famous risottos, and Thomas was glad that he didn't need to count every calorie like Robert probably had to do as a dancer. The Pole shot him an amused look, just as if he had read his thoughts.

“Us dancers have to be careful, that's true, Thomas, but dancing burns a lot of energy, and your wonderful aunt apparently knows how to cook for dancers, the risotto together with the salad was the perfect combination,” he said, making the so-praised cook chuckle delightedly.

“Of course, I know that, Lewy,” she assured him. “Apart from that, the job you're doing is pretty straining, my dear nephew, and you needed to restore your energy storage as well.” Mathilda pursed her lips, her gaze traveling thoughtfully over Robert's face. “I don't want to intrude your privacy, Robert, but it would be helpful to know what had happened between you and Marco. I know that you are both professional enough to keep your personal problems away from the stage in the future, but I must admit that I feel slightly irritated. I knew that you had met before, but I didn't think that it things would be that bad between the two of you.”

Thomas had mulled over how to address this topic the entire evening, and he was glad that his aunt had finally spoken out loud what he had been thinking.

The dark-haired Pole dropped his gaze, uncomfortably shifting his weight on his chair. “That's a rather long story,” he mumbled, but if he had thought that this introduction would keep Mathilda from asking further questions, then he found himself disappointed rather quickly.

“That's okay, Robert. Thomas and I don't need to be anywhere else this evening, just take your time, we will listen patiently to you,” she said cheerfully, and Thomas suppressed his own grin when Robert shot him a pleading glance, only shrugging his shoulders.

The dancer with the deep-blue eyes sighed again but resigned himself to his fate. “Fair enough,” he started, “Marco was the best student of the final class when I met him. I used the rooms of the school for my own practices, and I offered my help to those who needed help for their exams. Marco actually didn't need any help, he was great, but I am sure that you two already know what a great dancer he is.” Robert looked back and forth between Mathilda and Thomas, sipping from his water to buy himself some more time.

Thomas felt a sharp sting of jealousy, but he nodded. “Yes, we know that, Lewy. Marco wouldn't dance the Andrew if he wasn't,” he said, watching Robert bite his lip. “Yes, the Andrew – Julian's brother...” the Pole murmured thoughtfully, After a moment of heavy silence, he went on with his story.

“What shall I say? Marco and I fell in love, and he was the reason why I tried to learn the German language as fast as only possible. I was so happy, everything seemed to be perfect, even more when I got the chance to dance the Bolero as the principal. _'La Sylphide'_ came after the Bolero, and I was foolish enough to believe that Gardiolo would give me the chance to prove myself further.  
But he didn't. Instead, he let Mario dance the _'Nutcracker'_ even though he struggled hard and could hardly keep up with the rest of the company.  
It was clear to me that I would never become Gardiolo's first dancer because he didn't want any other dancer to outshine his lover, and I drove to Dortmund to dance in one of their rehearsals when they offered me a contract. Marco was deeply hurt, accusing me of already having fixed everything without telling him beforehand, which wasn't true, but he refused to listen to me. I knew that he was stressed because of his exams, and I hoped that I could prove to him that I was serious about our relationship by visiting him and cheering him on with my presence during his exams.  
But, a couple of days before this important day, Gardiolo called me and told me quite frankly that he would flunk Marco if I dared to come near Munich on that day or tell Marco that he had called me. Marco apparently had come to him to ask him that he should give me the chance I deserved, and Gardiolo hadn't taken that well.  
I was young and scared that he would do what he had threatened to do and flunk Marco, and so I stayed away from him, pacing up and down in my lonely flat in Dortmund the entire day, thinking of Marco and hoping that he would make it and prove to everyone how good he was. When I called him the next day, Marco shouted at me that he had failed, telling me that he never wanted to see me again. That was eight years ago, and we have never seen each other again ever since then. I kept track of him as long as I was still dancing myself, but after my injury, I didn't have the energy to do so any longer. I called him after my surgery, but I couldn't speak to his voice mail, and he never called back.”

Robert gulped down his water, and Thomas' heart ached for him. He could imagine how painful all of this must have been for Robert – for Marco and Robert – both of them having been that young and deeply hurt by things that had been beyond their reach.

Aunt Mathilda was the first one to break the silence. “I see. I am so sorry that things turned out to be so painful for you the first time you were in Munich, my dear. I can assure you that Thomas and I will do everything we can do to make your second try finding a true home here in our beautiful city a much more successful one. You will have to talk to Marco one day, but only after you have settled in here. Your move and you getting familiar with our crew and your role will come first.”

Robert smiled at her. He looked pale and tired, and Thomas longed to take his hand and stroke it, offering comfort and understanding. The thought of Robert not wanting him to comfort him but Marco because he probably still loved him kept him from doing so, and he entangled his fingers in his lap instead.

“Aunt Mathilda is right, Lewy. Tomorrow, I will show you around and help you arrange your move, and after that, Thomas will practice with you and explain your role to you. We will take things slow at the beginning, don't worry,” he added when he saw the slight fright in Robert's eyes, “you don't need to practice with Marco at the beginning, and Erik is a real sweetheart and will make it easy for you to become familiar with the Romeo.”

Robert stared quietly at him, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and Thomas got the impression that something he had said bothered the Pole, he only couldn't tell for sure what it was.

“I am sure that Erik is the perfect Julian,” Robert finally drawled, rising to his feet. “I must admit that I am really tired. Shall I help you with the dishes, Aunt Mathilda?”

Thomas' aunt shook her head. “Of course not, my dear. You are our guest, and you look as if you needed to lie down. Thomas and I will do that. I wish you a good night and pleasant dreams, Lewy. We are so happy to have you here in Munich with us, my dear,” she said warmly, and Robert smiled at her. “Thank you, Mathilda, I feel the same way. Good night and then.” He shot Thomas one last quick but intense glance before he left the dining room to go upstairs, and Thomas watched him leave with a mixture of frustration, longing and confusion.

If Robert and Marco still loved each other, then Thomas would have to accept that, no matter how much his stupid heart might wish that Robert would return his feelings one day. Some dreams had to stay dreams, and Thomas would better not forget that.


	7. Starting Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Robert's first day in Munich after more than seven years, the first day of his new life as a dancer back on stage again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hesitant to post this chapter, because the last one has gotten only very few kudos, and the feedback is already decreasing after only six chapters. I will see how the feedback to this chapter will turn out to be within the next week and if it will decrease again, then I will take this story down because there is no need to bother me myself or you with something that isn't worthy to be visibly supported. 
> 
> I also noticed that hardly anyone is bookmarking my works anymore, which makes me sad as well. My stories are apparently not worth to be saved or recommended to others any longer, something I have of course to accept, but what made me muse about my writing and the obvious lack of quality of my last stories a lot lately.
> 
> However, I decided to give this story a try again despite my issues, I hope you will like this chapter better than the last one.

To his own surprise, Robert had slept like a log on his first night in Munich.

He had talked to Jenny on the phone for almost one hour before falling asleep the previous evening, and he felt refreshed and eager to start with the rehearsals when he got out of bed to take a shower and shave. Aunt Mathilda greeted him with a delicious smelling breakfast, and the dark-haired dancer was happy to see Thomas sitting at the table, sipping from his steaming coffee with a blissed-out expression on his handsome features.

The blond Münchner looked a little bit ruffled and sleepy as he smiled crookedly at him, the sparks dancing in his eyes making Robert's heart beating faster. Thomas had obviously slept much less than Robert, and Robert learned about the reason for that as soon as he sat down opposite him.

“Good morning, Lewy,” the younger man greeted him. “I hope you slept well in Aunt Mathilda's guestroom.”

“Good morning. Thank you for asking, I slept very well, like a contented baby, but you look still tired, Thomas,” Robert gave back, pouring himself some coffee.

Thomas suppressed a yawn. “Yes, I surfed the internet for rentals. We'll need a van for your stuff to manage your move in one trip, and I think I found a van that is affordable.”

Robert had been so caught up in the ballet that he had almost forgotten that he had come here with only an overnight bag. “Oh, wow, that was very kind of you, Thomas,” he stammered, looking confused for a moment. “I have saved some money, so the move shouldn't be a problem, but I appreciate that you spent your precious free time with looking for a van.”

Mathilda entered the room with fried eggs and bacon, putting a generous amount of both of them onto Robert's plate. “Good morning, my dear, I'm pleased to hear that you slept like a baby, that's always a good sign,” she said, serving her nephew before sitting down at the small side of the table. Thomas smiled at his aunt, stifling another yawn. “Thank you, my dear aunt.” Mathilda patted his hand with an affectionate smile before doing the same with Robert. “We're so happy to have you here with us, Lewy!”

“Good morning, Mathilda and thank you, I'm happy too.” Robert felt a huge lump in his throat all of a sudden as he remembered his first couple of days in Munich more than eight years ago, when he had been that young and uncertain. He hadn't spoken the language of his new home and the heavy Bavarian accent of most of the people he had talked to had made it even harder. Robert had struggled and suffered from homesickness for months, and he had thought that he would never come back to Munich when he had almost fled from the Bavarian capital to seek his luck in Dortmund, feeling deeply wounded and hurt.

But here he sat seven years later, feeling welcomed and cherished because of Thomas and Mathilda, and he furtively wiped his eyes and sipped from his coffee to hide his emotion.

“It goes without saying that we will defray the costs for your move, Lewy,” Mathilda now said. “We were the one luring you into our dragon's lair, and we won't let you pay for your necessary move. You will need your money for other things.”

“But that's really not necessary, Mathilda!” Robert objected, pulling a snort from Thomas. “Of course it is, Robert,” the young theater manager stated, using Robert's birth name to get his point across. “Aunt Mathilda and I talked about that before my departure and nothing has changed since that talk. I will take you to my parents' place after breakfast so you can take a look at the granny flat and after that, I will introduce you to the other employees working in our theater. Some of them agreed to help us with the move because we're running out of time, so you don't have to worry about the expenses.”

“That's... honestly, I don't know what to say. Thank you!” Robert mumbled hoarsely, and Mathilda reached out to gently pat his hand once more. “We want you to feel at home here, Lewy. We are all a big family in _'The Old Firehouse'_ , and you are a part of this family now as well.”

Robert finally took his fork to taste the eggs and the bacon, still overwhelmed by the warm welcome.

“Thank you, Mathilda and Thomas. I already start to feel at home here,” he admitted, and the happy smile he got from the handsome young Münchner in return made butterflies clap their wings in his stomach and warmth spread out in his chest.

Maybe, his second time in Munich wouldn't be as awful as his first time had been, Robert thought. He only needed to sort things out with Marco to have a real chance, and with Mathilda and Thomas standing by his side, this would perhaps be easier than he had thought it to be.

 

***

 

The granny flat in the house of Thomas' parents was a dream, and Robert had to pinch himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. Thomas' parents were as warmhearted and charming as Aunt Mathilda, and Robert liked them at first thought. The rent was fair and affordable, and the dark-haired dancer could hardly wait to move in and make himself comfortable in his new flat to dream of a bright ad happy future.

Thomas eyed him from the side during the drive to the theater, chuckling quietly when he saw Robert's excitement. “I love the granny flat myself but Aunt Mathilda's house is closer to the theater and I thought it good to not stay that close to my parents. My dear aunt is truly a mother hen, but she insists on me being independent and doing my laundry and the cleaning myself much more than my mother would do. I am actually grateful for that. We're doing the cooking together most of the time because we can talk about the theater while eating, but that's something else, and Aunt Mathilda would never even think of cleaning my flat or doing my laundry.”

Robert nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean, independence is important. Your parents are wonderful people and I hope that we will get along with each other.”

“I think so.” Thomas parked the car and Robert followed him to the side door of the theater where the staff normally entered the building. The young Pole stopped and closed his eyes for a moment to inhale deeply the atmosphere and relax with a happy sigh. He hadn't known how much he had missed this, how much he had longed to dance on a stage again.

“You missed this, didn't you?” Thomas asked gently, and Robert opened his eyes to look at him. “Yes, I missed being on a stage much more than I wanted to admit. Thank you for opening my eyes and letting me see the truth, Thomas,” he said hoarsely, and the blond theater manager smiled at him and reached out to stroke his shoulder. It was clearly an unconscious gesture, but Robert's heart started to beat faster again, and time stood still as they looked each other deep in their eyes. Thomas' beautiful eyes became dark with some strange emotion, and Robert instinctively leaned in to...

“Ah great, just the two people I was looking for!” The unknown and very cheerful voice of a young man startled them at the same time, and both men flinched and stepped back with red faces.

“Mario!” Thomas croaked out, “you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

The newcomer grinned and shrugged his shoulders. “I'm sorry, Thomas. Mathilda told me that you would come here together with Robert within the next half an hour, and I really need to take our new principal's measures for the costumes. Everything else must wait!” the young man demanded, pulling a groan from Thomas.

“And you needed to lurk in the shadows of the foyer to make sure that you would be able to drag Lewy straight into your cubbyhole before anybody else would get the chance to 'steal' him away from you?” The blond Münchner asked with an amused shake of his head.

Mario nodded vigorously. “Of course, Thomas. I'm dying to get the measures of our new star, you know how busied I am with all the costumes. I could really do with some help.” Mario didn't sound reproachful, he was merely stating a fact, but Robert could tell by the expression on Thomas' face that this was a sore spot between them.

“I know that, Mario. You will get help as soon as we can afford employing another tailor.”

The younger man's face softened. “I know, Thomas. I'm not complaining, you know how much I love working for you. Mathilda promised me to help me with the sewing, so don't worry, but I really need to take Robert's measures to have enough time searching for the right materials and colors to accentuate his dark beauty.” Mario bit his lip and blushed. “I'm sorry, Mr. Lewandowski, I didn't introduce myself properly to you and already call you by your birth name. I'm normally not that impolite, I fear that I got carried away. I'm Mario Götze and I am Mathilda's and Thomas' costume designer.” He offered Robert his hand and the dancer shook it firmly.

“That's no problem at all, Mario, please call me Robert or Lewy,” he said friendlily. “I am pleased to meet you and thank you for your compliment.”

Thomas' face showed a somewhat strained expression when he looked back and forth between his costume designer and his first dancer. “I'm glad that you're already getting along that well,” he drawled, and Robert felt the urge to embrace him and make the sad expression on his face go away. The dark-haired dancer pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans to not give in to that urge, and Mario snickered sheepishly.

“Never mind, Thomas, you know how I meant that! Robert is truly a catch for the eye, and my costumes will make him shine and glow on the stage even more, that's all. Can I have him now for half an hour, please?” the young man begged with pleading brown eyes, and Thomas groaned again and shook his head with a helpless chuckle.

“You won't stop getting on my nerves until you could take Lewy's measures anyway, so yes go ahead. I expect you to bring Robert to my office in half an hour. This will give you enough time for taking his measures, after all, he is a professional.”

Mario made a pout but resigned himself to his fate with a theatrical sigh. “As you wish, boss, I shall hurry then. Please come with me, Robert, we shouldn't waste any more time!” he agreed, taking Robert's hand without further ado to pull him with him. Robert stumbled after him with a surprised yelp, and the last thing he saw before Mario turned around the corner of the long corridor with him was Thomas standing in the middle of the small foyer with a shy smile curling around his lips.

 

***

 

Half an hour later, Robert found himself standing in Thomas' office, his mind still spinning from his first meeting with the talkative and cheerful costume designer.

The young theater manager was absorbed in his work, and Robert enjoyed having a short moment of peace and silence for himself where he could watch the handsome Münchner who fascinated him that much. He admired Thomas and his aunt for what they did, and he could feel their passion for their work and _'The Old Firehouse'_ in every word they said and everything they did. Thomas murmured quietly to himself while he typed on his calculator, apparently charging expenses.

It was clear to see by the huge amount of papers on his desk that Thomas worked for three and that he most likely spent his rare free time in his office as well, but he seemed to be fine with that, his only interest to let his beloved theater become one Munich's biggest stages. Robert couldn't help but wonder whether or not the unknown girlfriend Thomas surely had was as fine with Thomas working all day and night long as well.

“Robert! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you coming into the room,” Thomas now apologized with a faint blush coloring his pale cheeks, and Robert closed the door behind him and crossed the small room. “No need to be sorry, Thomas. I am a dancer, I am trained to walk without making much noise.”

Robert hadn't tried to walk as quietly as possible, but there was no need to increase Thomas' embarrassment, the younger man looked really tired, and the dark-haired dancer had a bad conscience when he remembered that Thomas was behind with his work because of his short trip to Dortmund and the unnecessary delay because of his own stubbornness.

Thomas accepted his explanation with a grateful smile. “Please sit down, Robert, I would like to talk to you before we'll meet the other dancers again.”

Robert took the seat before Thomas' desk and straightened his shoulders. He could imagine why Thomas wanted to talk to him, and he suppressed the urge to start and defend himself before he knew whether or not he was right with his suspicion.

The young manager leaned back in his chair and rolled his shoulders in the vain attempt to ease the pain his crouched position had aroused in his neck and his back.

“I talked to Matthias, our scene designer and handyman, and to Patrick, Philipp and Manuel. They all agreed to help us with the move. You already know Philipp and Manuel, and you will get to know Patrick and Matthias today as well. Patrick is our make up artist. Am I right guessing that you don't have much furniture we'll have to load the van with?”

Robert blinked, surprised about the topic because he had expected something different. “You're right, Thomas. There is only my bed, a wardrobe and a dresser. The rest are clothing, books and some other personal things. The granny flat in your parents' house has enough furniture for the start, I can buy more here in Munich in case I'll need it.”

“That's great. I would like to start the whole thing the day after tomorrow early in the morning, if we're lucky, then we will be back in the evening of the same day,” Thomas mused, and Robert nodded. “Six men, that should be enough to make that possible, it's not that much stuff.” The young dancer flinched when he noticed the sadness in his voice, and Thomas regarded him with understanding and sympathy.

“The last three years have been hard for you, Lewy. It is about time that this will change.”

Robert chewed on his lip and Thomas' green-blue eyes traveled to the spot where his teeth worried the smooth flesh.

“I will do my best to sort things out with Marco.” It was a relief to finally speak it out loud, the thought of Marco had weighed heavy on his mind since he had left Dortmund together with Thomas.

“Yes, I know, Lewy. I know that it won't be easy, but I trust you to not cause any problems because of your past. Marco's behavior yesterday was not okay and I will talk to him later, but I think it was more defiance and the feeling of helplessness that made him behave like a pouting child. He wants this ballet to be a success as much as the rest of us.”

“Marco is the perfect choice for the Andrew, Thomas. He is a great dancer and the best for the role.”

Thomas looked thoughtfully. “You will have some scenes together where you have to come pretty close. Do you think that this will be a problem?”

Robert smiled grimly. “No, not at all. We were always best together after a fight,” he remarked dryly, and Thomas observed him with slightly narrowed eyes. “You fought a lot, then?”

“Hmm, that depends on how you define 'a lot', I guess. But it was always good for our performance,” Robert gave back ironically.

The younger man smiled briefly. “Maybe you shouldn't try to make up with him then. This kind of tension is what we'll need between the two of you.”

“I will do my best to sort things out with Marco nevertheless, Thomas. But he has to be willing to make a new start as well,” Robert reminded him, and Thomas sighed. “Yes, I know. This might be the harder part.”

He rose to his feet and Robert followed his example. “I will show you the rest of the theater now and introduce you to our staff, you will like them. Our crew is great and they see to their work with great passion.” Robert could hear the pride in Thomas' voice and it warmed his heart. He already felt like a part of this family, and he was determined to give his best and make the ballet a big success.

“This theater is truly special, Thomas. Mathilda and you can be so proud of what you have achieved,” he praised the younger one.

“Thank you, Lewy, your words mean a lot to me!” Thomas beamed at him and casually wrapped his arm around Robert's shoulder on their way to the exit. The butterflies started to dance and clap their wings again, and Robert knew that he was grinning stupidly all over his face as he snaked his own arm around Thomas' slim waist.

Whatever his next encounter with Marco would turn out to be, Robert would not let the other dancer provoke him but stay calm and reasonable. He wanted to be here and he wanted to dance the Romeo even more than he had wanted to dance the Bolero back then, eight years ago. He wanted to learn more about the other dancers of their company and most of all, he wanted to learn more about the handsome young man who had ended his misery and pulled him out of his self-pity.

Thomas would probably never return his feelings, but they could at least become close friends, and when the Münchner started to whistle a cheerful melody horribly out of tune, Robert chuckled and joined him in his whistling, the sun suddenly shining brighter and the musty air in the corridor of the old theater smelling of flowers and happiness.

Today was the first day of his new life, and Robert would make the best out of it and not look back at what he had lost long ago anymore. Today was the first day of his second life in Munich and this time, Munich would become a true home, Robert had only to believe in it.


	8. Nightly Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert has packed his things and left Dortmund for good, but he feels homesick and lonely in the first night alone in his new flat, and he knows where to go and what to do when he feels this way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for encouraging comments for the last chapter, they really mean a lot to me and finally made me write the next chapter. Please don't forget to also leave kudos if you liked this chapter, these little hearts are pure love and my stories get only little of them most of the time. I hope you will like this chapter, your reaction will decide whether or not there will be another chapter following this one.

The pale silvery light of the moon falling through the large windows of the ballet hall of the old theater threw shadows over the parquet and the two white walls, not reaching into the corners of the large room, but it was enough for the lonely dancer who had found his way here to search for some peace and consolation after all the changes the last few days had brought with them.

The two mirror fronts at the other sides of the room reflected the moonlight, the soft rays caressing the slim figure slowly turning around its axis in the middle of the room like the tender fingers of a fay or an elf.

Robert had felt the overwhelming urge to come here and dance after two long and exhausting days of getting to know his colleagues and the rest of the theater, hours of driving, packing, driving and unpacking again. He felt drained and confused, and dancing had always helped him to clear his mind and calm down when he had been upset.

Saying goodbye to Dortmund had been much harder than he had thought it would be, even though most of his memories were painful ones. Saying goodbye to Jenny had been the hardest part, the young woman he considered his family and who had always been there for him, even in his darkest hours, and he didn't know how he would make it through the next weeks and months without her help, clinging to her slim figure for dear life for long minutes.

Jenny had embraced him with teary eyes but a honest and sweet smile, kissing his cheeks and telling him how proud she was of him for finally dancing on a stage again, and Robert had hardly been able to let go of her again, staring out of the side window of the van while silent tears had streamed over his face for more than two hundred kilometers.

Thomas had left him alone, focusing on the traffic until Robert had finally turned his head and thanked him for his understanding.

_“There is no need to thank me, Lewy. If anything, than it is me who has to thank you for leaving everything behind that has been dear to you for the last years. I would feel the same way if I had to leave Munich and Aunt Mathilda, I probably wouldn't stop crying for two days,” the young theater manager had only said, and his smile had lit up the passenger compartment of the van. “And please don't think that Matze, Patrick, Manu and Philipp don't understand you, because they really do. We have all been through such painful farewells, none of them will poke or tease you. We are only grateful that you decided to give our ballet a chance.”_

Thomas' kind words had helped Robert to pull himself together again, and they had talked about the theater for the rest of the luckily traffic-jam-less drive. Matze, Patrick, Manu and Philipp had followed them in Thomas' car with the rest of Robert's stuff, and they had managed to unload the van and unpack the boxes before the sun had gone down.

Mathilda had cooked for them, and Robert had enjoyed the evening much more than he had feared he would despite his exhaustion, but his homesickness had crushed him the minute he had closed the door of his new flat behind him, alone with his thoughts and his longing for the first time within hours at last, and after pacing up and down in the dark living room for half an hour, Robert had taken his sports bag and taken the bus of the line that would bring him to _'The Old Firehouse'_.

And here he was, dancing alone in the moonlight, finally feeling calm and confident again as he danced the first part of the Bolero, the slow part. Robert still remembered every single step, every tiny move, every gesture and every position as if it had been yesterday that he had danced the Bolero for the first time, and he closed his eyes as he let the music fill every fiber of his being, swaying his torso from the left to the right side like a feather dancing in the soft nightly summer breeze. He turned around his axis balancing on the toes of his left foot, then repeated the motion in the opposite direction before tiptoeing back and forth with his arms stretched forward, and his mind calmed down more and more with every new tune wafting through the air and every new step he made.

The music crescendoed, and Robert moved faster, swaying his arms and his torso more forcefully, imagining that he was a boat dancing on the waves of a large ocean, and he lifted himself up and jumped into the air, scissoring his legs and whirling around his axis again before he landed on one foot, raising the other leg high into the air and bending forward at the same time.

Robert had danced the Bolero often enough to do it without the partner this choreography actually requested, and he lost himself in his so beloved music and the fluent motions his body was still capable to perform. He stomped with his feet onto the parquet with the swelling music and jumped up again, crossing the large room in a fast whirling, and when the last tune finally faded, Robert sank down to the ground and remained motionless for a couple of seconds. His heart hammered in his chest and his breathing came fast, but his homesickness was gone, and Robert felt at peace and calm again, becoming one with the moment.

When he finally rose to his feet and opened his eyes again, Thomas was standing in the doorway, watching him silently.

 

***

 

Thomas had given up his fruitless attempts to fall asleep rather quickly, deciding that he could do some of the work that waited for him lying in large piles on his desk because he had hardly had any time to see to the needed and never ending paperwork over the last days.

The young theater manager dressed and took his jacket for the short stroll over to _'The Old Firehouse'_ , musing about the events of the day. They had left Munich early in the morning before sunrise, Robert sitting in the passenger seat of the van beside himself while Matze had driven Thomas' own car with Patrick, Manu and Philipp. Some merciful fate had seen to them not getting stuck in a traffic jam, and they had reached Dortmund around half past nine, sooner than they had expected to arrive.

Jenny had been of great help, making lunch for them and providing them with fresh coffee, and Thomas felt still touched when he remembered how she had embraced him and whispered into his ear that she trusted him to take good care of her 'older brother'. Thomas had promised her to do that, and he had left Dortmund with a heavy heart and a huge lump in his throat, which had surprised him himself.

Robert had cried silent tears after their departure, staring out of the side window with unseeing eyes, and Thomas had left him alone and given him the time to pull himself together again, glad that his friends couldn't see Robert's tears. It wasn't that they wouldn't have understood Robert's grief, but Thomas somehow felt that he was the only one being allowed to see the handsome dancer in this state, and his heart beat faster by the thought that Robert trusted him enough to let him see his tears.

The dark-haired Pole had pulled himself together enough to laugh and joke with them during the delicious dinner Mathilda had cooked for them, but the expression in his deep blue eyes had remained melancholic and thoughtful during the whole evening.

Thomas sighed and forced his thoughts back to his work when he reached the backdoor of the theater, frowning when he heard music coming from somewhere inside the building. The blond Münchner closed the door behind himself again, following the music until he reached the large ballet hall, and what he saw took his breath away.

 

***

 

Thomas blinked, feeling as if he had just woken up from a wonderful dream, and he watched Robert approaching him trapped in some kind of trance, still under the spell of Robert's dance.

The older man came to a halt a few centimeters away from him, reaching out with his hand to let his fingers travel over Thomas' face. The young manager let him do it without moving, just returning his attentive gaze. The silvery light of the moon illuminated Robert's lithe frame like a halo, and Thomas was reminded of an ancient, beautiful Greek God again as he stood there before him in his tight, shimmering white training suit. Robert's slightly tanned skin shone rosy from his efforts, and his deep blue eyes sparkled with an emotion Thomas couldn't quite detect, but whatever it was showing in the blue depths, it made Thomas' throat go dry and his heart beat faster with longing.

Robert's fingers had reached his lips, and a shiver ran over Thomas' spine when the dancer explored them with the tip of his thumb, testing their smoothness. The younger man hardly dared to breathe to not disturb the precious moment between them, and his eyes fell shut when Robert leaned in ever so slightly until their lips almost touched.

He could feel Robert's warm breath ghosting over his flushed skin, caressing his stubbly cheeks, and his body woke up and reacted forcefully, every cell of it tingling with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.

The dark-haired Pole snaked his hand around his neck, pulling him closer, and Thomas' breath hitched in his throat, his lips parting a little bit to their own will. The warmth radiating from Robert enclosed his body like the soft water of a warm bath would do after a long working day, and a small, wistful sigh escaped his mouth. Deft fingers played with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, tickling the smooth skin of his scalp, and Thomas unconsciously lifted his chin up when he felt the light touch of Robert's mouth upon his own.

It was only a feather-like touch, a tentative and almost shy request, but it sent another shiver over Thomas' back, and his hand came up to cup the stubbly cheek of the other man and return the kiss.

They stayed like this for a few seconds, their lips touching but without moving or one of them trying to deepen the kiss, a first shy attempt to learn whether this new level of familiarity was appreciated or if the other man would pull back and say that more intimacy between them wasn't welcome.

When Thomas didn't try to draw back, only waited for the older man to go further, Robert gently pulled him closer until their bodies were touching in full length but without too much pressure, and he started to move his lips, stroking with them over Thomas' tingling mouth. They didn't embrace each other, only their hands holding each other, and Thomas opened his lips to let the curious explorer in when the dark-haired dancer licked over his bottom lip with his tongue. The older man smelled of fresh sweat, herbal soap and aftershave, but most of all he smelled of Robert, a wonderful and enticing scent, male, tempting and so very much Robert. Thomas had smelled the dancer's unique scent a couple of hours before when they had carried the few pieces of furniture and the boxes together, loading the van with Robert's belongings, but Robert's natural fragrance was even more enticing now that they were finally alone and undisturbed, standing so close to each other and kissing for the first time.

It made Thomas' head spin with longing and his fingers itch with the desire to explore every tiny spot of the warm and so wonderfully smelling body, to taste his scent with his lips and his tongue until he would know all of the wonders hidden under the training suit by heart.

The tongue licking its way around in the soft cavern of his mouth distracted him from his wish though, and Thomas pushed against the cheeky conqueror with his own tongue, inviting it to play a tender battle and see who would win the upper hand in this playful duel. Robert's soft moan tickled his lips and vibrated where their chests were touching, and Thomas grazed over the short stubble with his thumb, enjoying the slight roughness under his fingertips, shuddering slightly with longing and ardor.

The young theater manager had made some experiences with two or three girls, he had needed to be sure that his feelings for a certain dark-haired dancer had been more than the simply admiration and adoration for a great artist, and he had enjoyed kissing them, but he had never felt the way he felt now as Robert kissed him. Thomas had even once kissed another guy, a handsome young man he had met in a club, and who he might have fallen in love with if his heart hadn't already belonged to another one.

He had liked kissing another man better than kissing the girls, but he realized now that he hadn't really known anything about kissing before this evening. Robert's lips were so tender upon his own, stroking, nibbling and caressing, and Robert's tongue did incredible things to him, licking and teasing and claiming his mouth as if the other man never wanted to let go of him again.

Thomas could have stayed like this forever, kissing Robert for the rest of his life, but reality hit him with cruel force soon again, because Robert suddenly stepped back, his hand dropping down at his side, staring at something behind Thomas' back, his lips swollen and red from their passionate kiss.

When the young theater manager turned his head to see what had scared Robert that much, he froze in place, because no one else than Marco Reus stood a few meters behind him, watching them with narrowed eyes and displeasure and disbelief written all over his handsome features.

Thomas flinched and turned around, murmuring a hasty excuse as he started off towards the dark corridor, almost running away from the man who had just kissed him senseless. Thomas didn't wait for Robert's answer, he just kept walking as fast as he could until he reached his office, storming into it and slamming the door shut to lean against it with closed eyes and a thick lump in his throat.

What the hell had just happened, and how was he supposed to ever look Robert in the eyes again?

 

***

 

“I'm sorry, I guess? I didn't mean to interrupt anything.”

Robert watched the blond dancer slowly coming closer, his amber-green eyes fixed on Robert's flushed face.

The older man folded his arms across his chest, scowling at his former lover. “So why did you do it if you didn't mean to?” he asked impassively, causing Marco to narrow his gaze in annoyance again.

“I couldn't know that I would find you kissing our boss here in the middle of the night, could I? I just came here because I had forgotten my phone earlier that day. Is this the reason why Thomas offered you a contract without having watched you dance beforehand? How long is this thing between the two of you going on already?”

Robert pressed his lips to a thin line. “His aunt offered me the contract, and there is nothing going on between us how you put it. It was only a kiss.”

It hadn't felt like 'only a kiss' for Robert, but he surely wouldn't tell Marco that.

“Hmm, I see. Only a kiss,” Marco drawled, walking over to the corner between the window front and the mirror where Robert could see a small dark shadow lying on the floor, probably Marco's phone. “Does Thomas have a girlfriend?” he blurted out, unable to hold himself back, because he really needed to know that.

Marco bent down to pick up his phone but stopped in the middle of his movement, craning his neck to peer up at the Pole. “Why do you want to know that, Lewy? I think it was only a kiss?”

“It was. I just don't want to cause any trouble.” Robert hoped that Marco would buy his lie, proud that his voice sounded much calmer than he felt.

“I see. I think you should ask this question Thomas himself.” Marco finally grabbed his phone and straightened his back again, approaching Robert with pursed lips and his head cocked to the side. Robert didn't flinch, holding his gaze, not willing to back away.

The other dancer stopped before him, regarding him with an unreadable expression for a while. “Why did you come here, Lewy? What is the real reason for your sudden wish to dance on a stage again? Why couldn't you just stay in Dortmund and leave me alone?”

Robert stared back at Marco, swallowing audibly, unable to answer these questions. He had asked himself the same questions again and again ever since he had called Thomas and asked him to turn around and give him a second chance, and he was afraid to explore the reasons behind his decision. Had it really only been his wish to dance on a stage again? Or had there been another reason? Was Thomas the reason for his decision to leave Dortmund and give Munich a second chance? Was it because he had fallen in love with Thomas?

Robert swallowed again, pushing Marco to the side and running to the exit of the ballet hall because he suddenly felt like choking. He couldn't stay here any longer, couldn't breathe anymore, the walls coming closer and closer, threatening to crush over him.

Robert ran, and he didn't stop until he had reached the dark street and the black shadows of the night had swallowed him, Marco's loud shouts echoing in the cool air unheard.


	9. Important Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco caught Robert and Thomas kissing each other, and both of the ran away afterwards. What will happen the next day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long time since the last chapter, I don't know if there is still anyone left who's interested in this story. I decided to give it another try, and I might finish it if this chapter will get some love. <33

Robert couldn't tell later how he had found his way back to the granny flat in the house of Thomas' parents, nor how he had managed to fall asleep when he had finally stumbled over the threshold and dropped down on the cold bed fully dressed, too exhausted to change into his sleeping clothes and even brush his teeth.

He felt tired down to his bones when he woke up several hours later with the first rays of dawn, and only the fact that he owed Thomas and Aunt Mathilda too much to just run away again kept him from taking the subway to the main station and flee back to Dortmund. He couldn't even bring himself to call Jenny, not wanting to wake her up that early, knowing what she would tell him anyway.

Instead he got up from the bed to take a shower and search for fresh clothes in his wardrobe, grateful that most of his boxes were already unpacked. The dark-haired dancer skipped breakfast because the mere thought of eating something made him retch, and he found himself standing before the back door of the _Old Firehouse_ fifty minutes after he had woken up. He used the key Thomas had given him a couple of days before with trembling fingers, and his feet led him to the stage of their own will.

The large dome-like hall was dark except for the small lights over the emergency exits and one single spotlight that illuminated the center of the stage, and Robert stopped abruptly when he saw the lonely dancer gliding over the wooden floor as if he was weightless.

Marco was still as beautiful and graceful as Robert remembered him, most likely even a much better dancer than he had already been eight years ago, and Robert felt a sudden lump in his throat when he saw the hurt and sad expression on his face. He shouldn't have run away from him like that, not after how their relationship had ended, and Robert really couldn't blame Marco for his reservations and his behavior towards him.

The dark-haired dancer waited until the younger man noticed him standing in the shadows at the edge of stage, not wanting to disturb him, and when the blond turned his head to look at him, Robert stepped forward and reached out with his hand. He had run away far too often in his life, it was finally about time to take over responsibility for his actions and his decisions, and Robert really wanted to start anew and sort out the mess his life had been for more than three years.

Marco's eyes traveled up and down between Robert's face and his outstretched hand for a few seconds, his shoulders stiff and his expression guarded, and Robert took another step closer to him, smiling at him.

“I'm sorry, Marco, I shouldn't have run away yesterday.”

The blond lifted his chin up. “No you shouldn't have. But that's what you always do, isn't it? Running away as soon as things start to become a little bit difficult. It's so much easier to run away and leave the others behind, not caring about their broken hearts. It's so much easier to run away instead of fighting for the things you want to have, right? You were at the beginning of your career and you could have waited for one more year, using the time to prove yourself worthy of getting another chance, knowing for sure that you would have become Munich's principal in the end because everyone could see that Mario's best days were over. But what did you do instead? Running away as soon as Dortmund offered you a contract. You could have stayed and explained your reasons for your betrayal yesterday, but you chose to run away again instead. Running away from things and situations you don't like is your solution for everything, Robert Lewandowski, isn't it?”

Robert swallowed at Marco's scornful words, but he knew that the younger man was right. He owed Marco an explanation and an apology, and he was tired of running away. Aunt Mathilda and Thomas had offered him a second chance and a new home, a place that could become a real home if he stopped being a selfish and coward prick, and this even though he actually hadn't deserved a second chance after his first meeting with Thomas. He owed Thomas an explanation and an apology as well, and he would respect his wish and stay away from him when the young theater manager told him that he didn't return his feelings, but he wouldn't run away again – at least not if Thomas asked him to stay.

“Running away has been my solution for far too long, Marco. Please let me make it up with you and tell you what happened before your exams and why I wasn't there to cheer you on like I had promised to do. I know that I can't undo the hurt I've caused, but I'd really like to make a new start,” he said, hoping that Marco would finally take his hand. He didn't love the younger dancer any longer, but he still cared about him, and they needed to find a way to cooperate and work together for the ballet's sake.

Marco hesitated but then sighed and reluctantly took Robert's hand. “Alright, Robert, let's talk then.”

 

***

 

“... you know the rest of the story. I stayed in Dortmund, danced there until my injury destroyed all of my hopes and dreams within a few seconds.” Robert hadn't meant to sound pathetic, but the memories of the first moments after his fall were still haunting him at night, the cracking and tearing noises burnt in his memory forever.

They had found a table near the window in the abandoned cafeteria, and Marco had brewed coffee for them, Robert watching him handle to the complicated coffee machine with long-time practice.

They had sat down and sipped from their coffee, and Marco had listened to him with an unreadable face and without interrupting him when Robert had told him why he hadn't come to his exams.

“Gardiolo had threatened me to hunk me if I kept supporting your wish to become the principal,” the blond now said thoughtfully, and Robert felt utter relief that the younger dancer was obviously willing to believe him.

“I didn't know that, Marco. If I had known it, I would have come to Munich. I really thought that you would pass the exams with summa cum laude if I stayed in Dortmund and away from you. I tried to call you several times, the last time after my injury, but I couldn't talk to your mailbox.”

Marco blushed and lowered his eyes down at his cup. “Yes, I know. I saw the calls, but I couldn't bring myself to call you back. I'm sorry, I should have contacted you after your injury. I of all people must know how you felt when it happened.”

“We should leave it behind and try to start anew, Marco. I still care about you, and I would be happy if we could become friends one day.”

Marco looked up and smiled almost shyly. “I would like that too, Lewy.” His smile turned mischievous. “Even though us being friends will ruin our performance. Andrew and Romeo hate each other.”

Robert chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with new hope and happiness. “I'm sure that we will find other things to argue about, Marco, don't worry about that.”

The blond dancer snorted. “Just like in old times, right?” He reached out to squeeze Robert's fingers. “Thank you for telling me the truth, Lewy. I know that it can't have been easy for you, and I should have listened to you when you tried to talk to me. I'm really sorry for having refused to do that. Friends?”

Robert cupped Marco's hands with his and squeezed back with a fond smile. “Friends, Mars,” he said, using Marco's nickname just when a quiet sound from the door made both of them look up.

Thomas was standing on the threshold, staring at them with a shocked expression on his face, turning around and heading back in the direction where he had come from when he saw Robert looking at him.

“Shit, I think he took our reconciliation the wrong way,” Robert groaned, and Marco sighed and nodded his head. “Only a kiss, huh? Yes, I think the same, and it was obviously much more than only a kiss – for both of you, Guess you'll have another important talk this morning. Just go after him, Lewy, don't let him run away from you for a second time. Running away can never be the solution, it only causes more hurt.”

“Yes, I know, thank you, Mars. See you later.” Robert got up from his seat to run after the young theater manager, hoping that he wouldn't come too late for Thomas giving him a final last chance to explain himself to him.

 

***

 

Thomas' mind was spinning when he headed back to his office, his only wish to lock the door and never come out of it again. Matze had told him that he had seen Robert and Marco entering the cafeteria half an hour ago when Thomas had come to the theater after a sleepless night, and the young manager had hoped to be able to talk to Robert before the other dancers would demand his attention.

He knew how stupid and childish it had been to just run away from Robert the previous evening, but he had been too confused to stay, his inner turmoil making him feel like choking, his fear that Robert's kiss didn't mean what Thomas wanted it to mean so badly overwhelming him.

Thomas had tossed and turned in his bed the whole night long, his heart racing in his chest and his thoughts racing in his head, their passionate kiss imprinted on his still tingling lips.

He had really thought that their kiss had meant something – anything – to the dark-haired dancer as well, he had been the one initiating it after all. But his hopes had been crushed when Thomas had entered the cafeteria and seen how Robert had smiled at Marco, taking his hand to squeeze it. The two dancers had obviously made up with each other, and Thomas would never stand a chance against Marco – who was a dancer himself and knew Robert and his problems better than Thomas would ever be able to understand him.

He was out of breath when he reached his office, and he slammed the door shut behind himself to turn the key and lock himself in and everyone else out just when footsteps hammering onto the floor of the corridor announced the arrival of someone who apparently needed to talk to him very urgently.

Thomas leaned against the closed door with his eyes squeezed shut and balled fists, and his breath faltered when he heard Robert's voice from the other side of the door.

“Thomas? Thomas please, let me in! Things are not like they seem to be.”

Thomas bit down on his bottom lip, frozen in place, unable to move.

“Thomas, please, let me talk to you. Don't make the same mistake I've made when I ran away so many times.” Robert's voice sounded through the door, as close as though he would stand right before it, leaning against it like Thomas was leaning against the dark wood on his side of it.

“Thomas, please.”

Thomas finally pushed himself away from the door, his fingers trembling when he reached for the door handle to press it down. He stumbled back when the door swung open and Robert's handsome face was only inches away from his own all of a sudden, his brilliant blue eyes dark with the storm of his emotions.

“I... I – I...” Thomas tried to speak, just to be pushed into his office by the older man. Robert grabbed his shirt and pulled him close before the younger one was even able to process what's happening to him, kicking the door shut with his foot and pressing his lips against Thomas' in a fierce and passionate kiss.

“Uff!” was all that came out of Thomas' mouth before Robert's tongue pushed into it, swallowing every word Thomas might have wanted to say. He just stood there in the middle of his office with his hands still balled to tight fists at his sides, and it took him a moment before he was able to unclench them and wrap his arms around Robert's slim waist. The dark-haired dancer growled ardently when he felt Thomas giving in to him and his kiss became tender, his tongue licking and probing until there was not one single spot left in the soft cavern of Thomas' mouth he hadn't caressed and explored.

The need for air forced them apart after what felt like an eternity but had probably been only a few minutes, and Thomas blinked and tried to speak again, only to be silenced by Robert's digit put gently onto his swollen lips.

“I know that you have a girlfriend and that I should be sorry for having kissed you twice against your will, but I am not sorry at all, Thomas Müller. If these two kisses are the only kisses I'll ever get from you, then they are totally worth my broken heart afterwards.”

“A g-g-girl-f-friend?” Thomas had no damn clue what Robert was referring to.

“Yes, your girlfriend. It can't be that a handsome guy like you doesn't have one. I'm sorry for having taken you by surprise and making you uncomfortable, but I am not sorry for having kissed you. I know that you don't desire me the same way I desire you, and that I...”

This time it was Robert who couldn't finish his sentence because Thomas grabbed a fistful of his shirt to crash their lips together again, and it took them another few minutes before either of them had drawn enough air back into their starved lungs to be able to form any coherent word again.

Thomas leaned their foreheads together, not sure whether to laugh or to cry. “I don't have a girlfriend. Have never had one. For the same reason as you've never had a girlfriend.”

“A boyfriend then?” Robert sounded horrified.

Thomas decided to go with the laughter. “Nope, no boyfriend either. How could I have kissed another man when you have always been the only one I've ever wanted?”

Robert drew back a little to stare at him. “We have just met a couple of days ago, Thomas.”

Thomas felt heat creeping up into his cheeks. “That depends on how you define 'meeting', Robert,” he mumbled, pulling the air through his teeth. “I told you that I had been one of the spectators when you danced the Bolero as the principal for the first time. I was seventeen, and I fell in love with you right there and then when I saw you dancing. My classmates had crushes on singers and famous sportsmen or actors, but I was crazy and head over heels in love with a young and up to that day unknown ballet dancer. Watching you dance the Bolero changed my life completely, and you are actually the reason why I became a theater manager...”

Thomas didn't dare to raise his head and look into those deep blue orbs he drowned in every time he felt them directed at his face.

There was a short pause of astonished silence, and then Robert whispered: “You were the boy giving me standing ovations before the others did, weren't you? You were up on your feet before everyone else was, I saw you standing up from the corner of my eye when I bowed.”

Thomas swallowed. “Yes, that boy was me. You looked at me for a few seconds and I could even see your eye-color, but I didn't think that you would remember me.”

“I do. You don't know how much it'd meant to me back then. It was my first role as a principal, and I was still so young and unsure about myself. There was this silence and for a moment, I really thought that they would boo me. But then you jumped to your feet and clapped your hands like crazy - and all of the other spectators followed your example and did the same...It was the happiest day of my entire life until the day you came to Dortmund to offer me a contract and show me that I still had a choice, that there was still someone left who was believing in me.” Robert's hand came up to stroke Thomas' face with rapt devotion and he smiled, a wistful and shaky smile that let his eyes shine like precious sapphires. “So was jealous of your mysterious girlfriend for no reason. I had just thought – after your strange reaction to my confession that I prefer men...”

Thomas grinned sheepishly. “I couldn't believe my luck when you told me that you could never fall in love with a woman... I had really thought that Jenny and you were a couple, and I was just so nervous. I had really thought that I had gotten over you after all those years, but when I saw you sitting there in the cafe, I was suddenly the seventeen-year old teenager again, remembering the butterflies that had clapped their wings in my belly when I saw you dancing.”

“Butterflies are good.” Robert searched for his lips again, and Thomas closed his eyes and kissed his ancient golden god back with all the long suppressed desire he had locked deep down in his heart.

“So there is hope left that you could fall in love with me again, Thomas?” Robert asked breathlessly when they parted again, and Thomas shook his head with a wide grin plastered all over his face. “Nope, no chance that this will ever happen.”

“What?! Why not?” Robert cried out, and Thomas chuckled and kissed the tip of his nose. “How can I fall in love with you again when I've never really stopped being in love with you, silly?” he chuckled, and Robert tried to scowl at him but couldn't hide his own stupidly blissful smile.

More kisses followed, and only the thought of Marco made Thomas pull back and glance at the older one. “But what about Marco, Lewy? You looked so close when you sat there in the cafeteria...”

Robert sighed. “We've only talked, Thomas. I hope that we can become friends after all that happened, but nothing more. You were right that I needed to talk to him, and he was alone on the stage when I came here this morning, so I thought this to be a good opportunity to talk to him and perhaps sort things out. Marco was right when he said that I'd always chosen to run away instead of fighting for the things I want, and I don't want to run away anymore. I want Munich and this theater to become my real home, I want you to be my home, Thomas.”

Thomas felt deeply touched by Robert's honest words, and he knew that he would do everything he could do to make this happen and give the man he loved the home he craved for so badly. There was still a tiny doubt left that Robert might not be over Marco, but he pushed this doubt to the side, not wanting to let it ruin the mood. “There is nothing I would love more than being your home, Robert. I just hope that we will find a way to be together without ruining our working relationship,” he said a little bit uncertain.

The dark-haired dancer nodded. “I know what you mean, Gardiolo and Mario are the best example for how a relationship can ruin everything. But it is different with us. I don't want to be your secret lover, I want to be your official boyfriend. Plus, you are the theater manager, but Thomas is the choreographer, so none of the other dancers need to fear that he will go on easy with me because of that. It works between him and Helena, has worked between them when they were still in Hamburg. Mario had never been the one who expected a special treatment, it was Gardiolo who couldn't separate his private life from his work.”

Thomas' heart made a happy flip. “If you say so.” They kissed again, eager to make up for the lost years. “Why don't we tell Aunt Mathilda the good news, Lewy? I'm sure that she will be happy to hear that Marco and you made up with each other and that you and me – that we...”

The young theater manager didn't know how to continue. “That we are a couple now?” Robert helped him out with a smile, and Thomas grinned. “Yes.”

“That's indeed a good idea, Thomas. Just one more kiss please to assure me that I'm not dreaming all of this.”

Thomas was all to happy to obey, proving to Robert that he wasn't just dreaming with a very long and very tender, very deep and very passionate kiss.


End file.
